The other Lily
by another.random.girl
Summary: Harry's past has always been a mystery to him, but one day, a strange woman who's history is tightly intertwined with Harry's comes back to Hogwarts and exposes the truth on both Harry's greatest enemies and most loyal friends. Plz read&review!
1. Chapter 1

_Hello to all my readers! Thanks for your patience and, well, the fact that you read my work! I'm starting a big "spring cleaning" in my story, and soon all my chapters will be punctuated "English style". I'll also try correcting the most pathetic of my mistakes. To those of you who have just discovered this story, please read the most you can, and take the time to review!_ _Small messages are welcome, harsh ones too (as long as they're constructive) and would be very appreciated! So, enjoy :)_

_Oh yeah, chapter 1 has been slightly modified. Just a few details that didn't fit with the rest of my story, seeing that I wrote down a plan only after I had finished my 15th chapter..._

Silence fell upon the crowded room as Dumbledore entered it. The Weasley's stopped their arguing about who would have Bill's room now he had left the house, Lupin and Tonks silenced the whispers that had been following them for over a month, and Sirius stopped short in the middle of the story relating his miraculous escape from Azkaban. Everyone in the room turned around, staring at the old man, who's eyebrows were more frowned than ever. As if not noticing the dozens of stares, he calmly walked down to the table and sat down in the Master chair that stood at it's end. Answering a silent command, everybody sat down into their respective places. Finally escaping his thoughts, he came back to reality, and a little smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. "My dear friends," he said, "I am glad to see that you have managed to join me here tonight. Thought the times may seem as dark as ever, it would be false to claim that we are not progressing." Everyone around Dumbledore felt a wave of remorse submerging them. During the last weeks, doubt had fallen upon the Order, as it seemed that no matter how much efforts they put into their work, it had no repercussions on the exterior world. Each and every member of the noble club had narrowly escaped from Death about ten times in the last days, but still, their efforts seemed vain. The wizards of the world were as divided as ever, and the number of Voldemort's victims kept increasing. And even though this good news was more than welcome, it seamed to all that they ought to be ashamed of abandoning so quickly. After all, it had taken to the last Order of the Phoenix years to vanquish the Dark Lord, and the task that laid ahead of them seemed as harsh, if not harsher, than the one they faced 14 years ago.

"A new member has recently joined the Order," he continued, "and she has realized something amazing during the few days she has been a with us. I… well actually, I think I shall let her announce it herself." He turned around presenting a silhouette lost in the shadows, standing next to Snape, who had silently entered the room shortly after Hogwart's headmaster. The silhouette didn't want to leave the cover of darkness, and it is only when Severus took it's hand that it accepted to move forward. She stepped under the old dusty candelabra and the whole room saw her shy expression, her long hair and her stunning robes, that looked more like a dress than the usual wizard clothing. The silence was finally broken by none other than Sirius, who sneered. "You're ex-girlfriend! You are going to help join next, you're mother?"

"No," replied Snape, "if I remember correctly, she passed out a few hours after bringing your own mother to the grave. And you can take the "ex" off…"

"You mean," said Sirius, "roaring with laughter, that she forgot that you ditched her for Voldemort?"

The newly arrived woman had passed from simple timidity to what seemed to be a nervous breakdown. She was hardly keeping back her tears as she spoke. "I haven't forgotten, I've forgiven. We've all done errors in our past… That's why I came back… I was even ready to give _you_ another chance, but it seemed that you just missed it. It's a shame, after all, Remus turned out just fine…"

"Giving me a second chance? Why would I need that," answered Sirius, apparently furious at her.

"Ha!" laughed his newly-arrived opponent, gaining confidence by the second, "you seem to have a very short memory! You remember were I was at prom night, so I assumed you would've known were I was a few months before, but I seemed to have over-estimated your capacity of accepting things you've always denied!"

She was now screaming at Sirius, her two fists on the table, her face inches away from his. The tension was filling the room, and as Snape pulled her back to him, Dumbledore spoke again. "Well, after this quite lovely reunion, it is my pleasure to announce to you that thanks to these two, we know have none less than eight enemies out of our way." Everyone gasped. Compared to the recent inaction that had invaded their ranks, this seemed absolutely incredible. Tonks, trying to reach for something on the table near the fireplace, knocked down a lamp and as vase, causing the general silence that had fallen upon the room since Dumbledore's appearance to vanish. Everyone got up, reaching for the couple, giving them their thanks and asking for details. Snape, who had always been left out of the fun, and his new associate, who had never even entered that room before, we're feeling quite awkward at first, but soon, they were perfectly at ease with the situation. The multiple cheers of Fire Whiskey had relaxed the ambiance, and everyone was talking joyfully until someone screamed from the back of the room. "ANOTHER DEATH EATER!" Sirius had risen from his chair, and was pointing at the girl's arm. Her sleeve has fallen in the mess, and now everyone could see the Dark Mark burnt into her flesh. "Blimey Dumbledore, you have to stop letting them in, or else they won't be a single good person left in this Order."

"With all due respect Sirius," replied Dumbledore, turning away from Harry and Hermione to face the Animagi, "I would ask you to stop searching for trouble! So as Severus, she has quited the ranks of Voldemort to join us. And," he continued, as Sirius tried to add something, "if you need proof of her loyalty, I can show you my memories of what was left of those Death Eaters. You'll see, even a man as cruel Voldemort wouldn't have ordered that against his own troupes."

"Well, I still think you should try hiring people we know have NEVER been in contact with the Dark Arts."

"Are you trying to tell me you want to quit? Sirius, the Black blood runs into your veins, you are the descendant of the vilest family of wizards of all times. Now I know you've turned your back to your family ages ago, but so did they."

"Snape may have, but I don't reckon seeing her last time."

"Thalia worked undercover for the Order ever since it was created, ever before Snape did, only for personal reasons she has not showed it to anyone, not even the member's of the Order. When she finally accepted to present herself and forget the past, it was too late… The war was over…"

Sirius, unable to say anything else, sat back down, and the conversations continued, but the room was ice cold. Suddenly, Harry grasped Hermione's arm. She turned to face him, and saw his eyes widened with shock. "Hermione," he whispered, "my parents! She wouldn't show herself until my parents died …"

"That's probably not it Harry, maybe she just…" started Hermione.

"No! She decided that she forgave them something, but then they died!" Harry interrupted.

"HARRY! Stop blaming your father for any little not-so-great thing that happened in England! I know it's been a shock to realize we wasn't as nice as everyone told you, but he's not responsible for every sad event in this world!"

"Well for once, it seems that Mr. Potter would have guessed correctly."

Harry and Hermione jumped. They hadn't realized Snape had been a few feet away from them all the time, and now Hermione was turning red. "What do you mean?" asked Harry. "It's … she didn't want to see my father?" Snape nodded, and was about to turn away, when the young boy grabbed his arm and forced him to turn around. "No, don't leave… Why? What did he do to her? I mean …"

"Harry, it's a quite long story," replied the teacher, "and luckily for you she decided to forget it and to give you the benefit of doubt. Now if you could please let go of my arm…"

"NO! I WANT TO KNOW! Sirius, you tell me, what did my father do to her?"

Once again, the room fell silent. The adults were staring at each other, their eyes widened with fear. It appeared clearly that everyone, especially Thalia, wanted to avoid the subject, but Harry kept asking: "What happened Sirius?"

"Oh nothing," answered Sirius, "it's just that your father played a little joke on her and that it turned out a little wrong…"

"A JOKE!!! Sirius, James nearly raped me!"

"Nearly raped you… Just a few kisses and…"

"A FEW KISSES? Well it seems that James has proven once more that he was a bloody liar! You perfectly know what happened that night!" Thalia raged against the man.

" Listen, it may have seemed terrible at first but..."

"But what?" Thalia burst. "How can you possibly diminish such a horrid act!?"

"Remus, please help me, James was as much your friend as mine."

"I'm sorry Sirius," said the werewolf, "but you know how mad I was at James after that. If only I had knew what I had done... He wasn't so proud of it either…"

Harry felt his heart sink. His father, a rapist? He knew he had never been an angel, and that he could sometimes even be a bit cruel, but he never could of imagine his father doing something as terrible. His friends saw that he wanted to be comforted, but none of them could. They had all talked to that girl, who was as sweet as heavens, and none of them could dare to approach the son of the man who had destroyed her life. But Sirius just kept going on. "If it was so terrible then, what did you come back?"

"Well that's a great question Sirius," joked Thalia, "5 points to Gryffondor! Actually, it's what I've been asking myself since I arrived! What do you think it is?"

"Because," answered calmly Sirius, "you know deep down inside that it's the right thing."

"Exactly. But that reason seems very well hidden right now, because no matter how hard I try, I can't find it. You've got to understand me Sirius, it's killing me to be in here, because the only persons that ever harmed me are standing this room. And what am I doing? I'm helping these persons to stop the only ones who ever understood and comforted me! You think it was easy for me to kill Averey? He passed entire nights by my bed, trying to stop me from crying. Now I know," she added as Sirius tried to stop her, "deep down inside, that James Potter was a brave man who fought for the ones he loved and that Voldemort is evil and heartless, but James is the one who told me I was filthy and Voldemort is the one who convinced me I was still worth something. So try explaining to me why I'm trying to eliminate the second one."

There was a short silence, while everyone in the room tried to mend with the walls. Then Sirius, who was now pale and silent said: "Because you know," he added in a whisper, staring at his feet, "that it's the right thing."

"Yes. So don't make me forget it."

***

Lying on his bed, Harry was staring at the ceiling. Beside him, Ron was playing chess with Fred, while Ginny and Hermione were talking about a new shop that had oppened on Diagon Alley, but he could see they were as interested in this shop as he was. Everyone was throwing shy looks at him, until he finally expressed himself. "I can't believe it." It was of no help. No one answered, and the room fell silent, the girls realizing there was no way of lightening the atmosphere. Finally, Ginny risked herself . "I know it must be hard to accept," she said, "but remember, you're not responsible for it. Whatever Sirius and Snape may think, you're not like him at all. And you heard her, she forgave him." For Harry, it was too much. Tears started running down his cheeks, and as he silently sobbed he said : "I know… I know. But still, it's not only him. Sirius, and Remus, they were both there, they were both his friend. And they accepted it. And it's not like if it was Snape or another idiot, she's …"

"Harry," said Ron, "calm down, it's the past, everyone forgot it and it's best if you leave it behind."

"Blimey Ron, think, I can't leave it behind !!! What would you think if your father was a rapist? Could you just _leave it behind?_"

He said these words with such hater that Ron seemed to shrink back to his place. Suddenly, a shy voice came from the door. "Harry , can I see you for a second?"

Everyone in the room turned around, and they saw Thalia in the doorway. The reunion was over, or so it seemed, and they started hearing voices downstairs. Actually, it seemed like a miracle that they had managed to hear her voice over the scrapping of the chairs and the sounds of Mrs. Weasley cooking. Harry quickly answered, and he left the room, four pair of eyes staring at him. The second he closed the door, the conversations started. "Great! " the boy thought. "Now even my friends hate me!" But he understood them. Even he wanted Harry to leave the room. It had finally happened, but as he stared into Thalia's brown eyes, he felt like he wanted to die. "It won't be long, just… do you mind if we go somewhere a little more… private?" His heart started to beat faster. She wanted to take revenge and kill him, that's why she had came here today. His mouth was dry, and he didn't answer, but she started climbing up the stairs anyways, assuming he would follow her. He did.

They stopped at the last floor, where there were only two doors. She entered the right one, and he followed. It seemed like every inch of the room was covered with green. The green walls were covered with green Slytherin posters, and the green bed had pale green snakes drawn all over it. It seemed strange that such a room was in the Headquarters of the Order, but then again, the Black house didn't seem like the most appropriate place to fight the Dark Lord. Thalia sat on the bed, like she was used to it, and invited Harry to sit beside her. "I'm sorry, were going to have to use Regulus' room. I don't think Sirius would like me too spread my Death Eater air all over the place." Harry smiled, but she didn't. She had pronounced these words very coldly, with all the loathing in the world. Harry, still uncomfortable with all the dark objects spread a little everywhere around the room, answered. "Well he already let you into his house, I guess he wouldn't mind if you entered his room for a few minutes…" She laughed. "Alright then," she admitted, "I'll put it this way: I don't think I want to see Sirius' stupid Gryffondor banners spread out all over the place, showing how truly courageous he was, not more than I want to see pictures of him with his Gryffondor friends, doing little Gryffondor stuff all over the place." It seemed to Harry that Snape had a little bit of competition: as mean as he was, he had never heard so much disgust in his voice at the use of the word Gryffondor.

She breathed deeply and said : "Look Harry, I'm just here to say this: don't feel guilty for you father's acts. He was the world's biggest… He wasn't very nice, but everyone told me you were as sweet as your mother, so I'm sure we could go along. But still… please understand every time I see you, I see him, so it'll be quite hard to forget. Don't make on purpose to get in trouble or to be in my face all the time."

"Wait, you knew my mother?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"Then why did you stop yourself from coming back to the Order if she was there?"

"Harry," she said bitterly, "your mother was nice to me, but I hated her. Less than your father, it is true, but I still couldn't stand being in the same room as her."

Silence fell in the small bedroom, and Harry, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute, tried leaving. It seemed now that facing his friends strange looks would be easier than standing Thalia's silence. "Okay well, thanks, and I'm really sorry we had to meat that way… I was an idiot asking… And don't be scared, I won't see you much, I'll be in Hogwarts anyways, so…"

"You mean no one told you?"

"Told me what?"

"I'm going to be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

When he came back to his room, Fred and Ginny were gone, but Hermione and Ron were waiting there, anxious looks on their faces. "So? Hermione asked, what'd she say?"

"Nothing really."

He pulled a chair beside the bed and sat on it, facing his two friends. "She just told me that I shouldn't take blame for what my father did, but still not do on purpose to follow her all the time." Ron and Hermione's face suddenly looked a bit disappointed. Harry quickly understood why. "Look," he said, a bit exasperated, "what were you expecting? That she would explain to me in detail every bit of her story?"

"Well not really, but… I don't know, you've been up there an awfully long time…"

"We wasted most of the time going up the stairs," Harry answered, laughing.

"KIDS, DINNER'S READY!!!" Mrs. Weasly called from a few stories below. They quickly got up and rushed downstairs, mostly because they were starving, but also because they had enough of the awkward silences. When they entered the kitchen, they found Tonks and Mrs. Weasly preparing the plates, and they offered to help. A few minutes later, they were standing outside, in the cool summer breaze, giving out the meals to the members of the order who had accepted to stay for the night. This time they were very few, and the usual gests weren't there. Remus had this time declined Mrs. Weasley's offer, claiming he had some mysterious job to do. Sirius, grumpier than ever, had locked himself in his room, and Dumbledore had left half way through the reunion. And, no surprise, Snape, Mundugus and the usual loners were absent.

_PS: Everything is corrected now. I just hate erasing messages..._


	2. Chapter 2

It was only a month later that the three friends saw Thalia again. The kids hadn't been allowed to show up to any of the Order's reunions after the first one, and they had been so busy that they completely forgot about the woman's short intrusion into their lives. She only came back into their heads when they received their letters from Hogwarts. After the usual shopping session down Diagon Alley, the packing session at the Burrow and the "who-can-gather-up-all-of-his-stuff-quicker-than-the-others" competition with his friends, the time finally came for Harry to get to King's Cross and enter the Hogwart's Express. As he was dragging his heavy suitcase down the alley, searching for an unoccupied cabin, he saw her again. She was alone on her bench, staring outside at all the families gathered up on the platform. Her gaze was fixed upon a certain group, and Harry could see the melancholy and the sadness that filled her eyes. She seemed lost in her memories, and Harry was about to leave when Ron arrived, screaming: "Harry!" and laughing his head off for no apparent reason.

Thalia quickly turned her head, and she let out a small cry when she recognized them. "Oh God," she said, as a smile appeared on her face, "I hadn't seen you guys. Well I guess you'll have more use than I for a cabin." She looked behind Harry's shoulder, when Neville and Hermione were trying to peek into the windows of the door. She then got up, picked up the suitcase beside her and without another word she left. Harry's friends quickly entered the small compartment, as the corridors were already crowded, but Harry stayed outside for a while, staring at Thalia's back. She was walking down the aisle when she suddenly stopped, turned her head and smiled. But this wasn't one of the shy smiles she gave Harry. No, this time she truly looked happy. The door at her right oppened, and she started talking. A group of girls, suddenly came out of nowhere, walked in front of Harry, preventing him from seeing who Thalia was talking to. And with their high-pitched giggles, it was impossible to make out a word of her conversation.

But the group quickly left and Harry could finally distinguish a few of her words. "You know I'd love to, but I just can't. And by the way, keep acting as pretentious as your father and you'll understand why he never stood a chance with me." She paused for a moment, then laughed. Apparently her interlocutor was funny, and it seemed that he was an old friend. But how could a student be friends with a teacher? A scream from his cabin brought him back to reality, and he quickly joined his friends. The trip to school passed very quickly, and it was with surprise that the group discovered they had arrived. Rapidly gathering their luggage, they left, leaving Neville, who was looking for his wand, behind. Harry had kindly offered to help him look for it, and a few minutes later they were at the door. Harry was about to step out in the fresh air of the night when someone hit him on the shoulder, and left the train with a quick pace. Looking at his friend, he silently asked who was the impolite that had just pushed him over. Neville simply gestured towards the cabin in which Thalia had been invited a few hours ago. Shocked, Harry turned around, just in time to see Draco Malfoy disappear into the fog.

Quickly gathering his senses, Harry ran down the alley until he reached his friends waiting in line for one of the cabs. The invisible horses had an easy job that day: the sky was clear and the air was fresh, so quickly enough they were sitting in the small cubicle, their suitcases lying at their feet. Harry didn't wait a second to announce his discovery: "Did you guys realize Thalia has spent the entire trip with some students?"

"Well she didn't really have a choice…" added Ron. "We kind of kicked her out…"

"No of course, I know, but guess who she was talking with?"

"I don't know, Padmil? She probably fainted when she saw Thalia's _stylish twist_."

They all giggled. This summer they had spent a few hours with their fellow students at a Quidditch game, and that day had left good memories. Of course, at first, Hermione was quite reluctant to go. "It'll only be a stadium filled with drunken teenagers who will probably try impressing the crowd by performing a few spells that will end up blowing up the entire place!" she had said, rolling her eyes as she saw Ron pouring Fire Whiskey in Butter Bear bottles and then magically re-sealing them. Nevertheless, the boys had convinced her to come and it turned out she had been entirely wrong. Well, not entirely: it is true that Harry and Ron had not been the only ones who had brought more than generous amounts of alcohol with them, and saying that they had drank responsibly would have been false, but no one had been harmed and Hermione had had a good time. The only problem had been Padmil's new interest in fashion. She had passed the entire afternoon ragging about wizards' poor taste in clothing, and about the petition she intended on showing Dumbledore, that asked for the permission to wear their robes with a _fashion twist_. It was only when Hermione had signed the damn paper that she had left them in peace, and since that afternoon they had had a pleasure of inserting the expression _fashion twist_ in every one of their sentences. Harry relaxed a little at the thought of that afternoon. Thought some memories were a little blurry ( why had he, Ron and Seamus spent about an hour looking for a maple tree? ) he had had a fun time in general, and he liked to know that all the houses had thought the same. Well, not all the houses. A few days ago it had seemed obvious that the Slytherins would not come even if invited, but now he was not so sure. Had they even been invited? He did not know. He wondered if there had ever been a day in the history of Hogwarts were all the houses had been united. Maybe. Some Slytherins were nice enough, when they were taken apart and brainwashed out of their idea of pure-blood supremacy. Maybe they had once been nice, but they had learned to keep away from the other houses. "We can't be considered as angels either," Harry bitterly thought to himself. "Maybe over the years they learned to stay away. Stay away… or get raped." These words stung him, and brought back to his memory the point of this discussion. "No," he said, pulling the others out of their memories. "No, she wasn't talking to Padmil. She was talking to Draco."

"Well of course," Hermione added.

"What?" the two boys exclaimed.

Hermione frowned. She looked around her. The other cabs were far behind, and therefore only Harry, Ron and her could hear this conversation. Neville had quickly changed cab when a cute Hufflepuff had invited him to join her with a large smile. Reassured, she continued. "You heard her that night: she said that her only friends were Death Eaters. She probably knew Malfoy's father."

"Yeah, I remember her referring to someone's father," Harry said, "realizing, just as Hermione had done minutes ago, that the whole thing made sense."

"As it is, she's probably good friends with Crabe and Goyle too," Ron added.

"This is ridiculous," Hermione said with a half-sly smile.

"What is?" the two boys asked. Once again, Hermione had understood everything within a few seconds and now the boys were patiently waiting for an explanation.

"Well Dumbledore said she had killed eight Death Eaters. Voldemort probably understood by now that she was on the other side – our side. How can she talk with a Death Eater's son like she was still one of them? I mean, what would have happened if she had killed Malefoy's father?"

The situation did seem slightly unbearable. As the three friends rummaged through their brains looking for a reasonable answer, the cab stopped and they dragged down their heavy suitcases to the entrance door. Their interrogations literally vanished when they saw Seamus and Dean running towards them, Dean shouting in a high pitched voice: "I feel this year will be a _fashion twist_!" As they did so, Harry saw Padmil frowning in a corner, looking at the boys with eyes filled with anger, and so he refused to laugh. He still through himself in the boys arms and quickly raced through the Great Hall with them.

* * *

"If Dumbledore doesn't shut up in five seconds," though Harry, "I will throw my glass at him." Luckily for the silverware, the Headmaster stopped talking about 3 and a half seconds later, and the plates immediately filled with food of all sorts. Without even looking at it, Harry took the first bowl he saw and dumped half of it's content in his own plate. By the time the fork reached his mouth, he had guessed he was eating shrimp. After filling his famished stomach, Harry slowed down his pace and started observing the teacher's table. All the usual figures were sitting at their respective places, and there was only one change: Thalia was sitting in the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's chair. Of course, he had known for weeks that Thalia would be occupying this place, but it was not so for everyone. Harry saw two Ravenclaw's about the age of Fred and George whisper to each other, their eyes fixed on the woman, huge grins spread out on their features. He could guess their comments were probably more about the cleavage of her dress than anything else. Or maybe he was wrong: the students were now used to discovering each and every year a new teacher sitting between Snape and Flitwick, and it had became a ritual game to guess who that person was.

"As it is," Harry thought with a chuckle, "it's probably the first time in a life time that Snape is _happy_ of sitting next to the DADA teacher." As he looked up, he realized he had guessed correctly. Snape's usual loathing eyes were now bright and shiny, and Harry saw his turn towards Thalia and address her a little smile. Only, as she turned back to talk to Flitwick, Harry saw her place her hand on his arm. His back immediately straightened, and he turned away from the horrifying scene. Forcing his mind to focus back on the Gryffondor table, he observed that Ron had probably been witness of the same scene. He was quite pale, and his eyes were wide. Harry could hear Snape's deep voice echoing in his mind : "You can take the _ex_ off…" Ron finally swallowed the huge piece of bread that was occupying his mouth and, leaning forwards to make sure only Harry could hear him, he whispered: "f I see them kiss, I swear I will PermaGlue my feet in my cauldron and throw myself in the lake." Harry laughed and quickly started piling up deserts in his clean, golden plate.

* * *

Harry's first day seemed to predict that this year would be exactly as the previous years. Though he had talked to Hagrid with a great pleasure (he had not seen his friend this summer) he was as nervous as the others to discover what strange creature he would try to survive to this year. Hagrid's mysterious smile when he announced that everything would be fine proved to all that everything would go wrong, and so it did: both Gryffondor and Slytherin spent the entire hour running after what anyone with common sens would have called small wolves, but what Hagrid had presented as cute little dogs. Then, he left for his History of Magic class, and the sweet sleepiness that immediately invaded his entire body was a proof that this year Binns would teach the exact same way as he had done for the past 78. Plus, when the sharp edge of a quill was stuck between his ribs, he knew Hermione would be as demanding as usual. He was also welcomed in his Transfiguration class by the same severe but somewhat gentle smile of Mrs. MacGonagall. So as he stepped into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, he already felt home.

Thalia was sitting on her desk and she was greeting everyone with a huge smile – Gryffindor like Slytherin. When alas everyone sat down, the left side of the room was shining with green and the right side was composed of one big mass of red. Thalia quickly stepped up to the front of the class and leaned over Seamus' desk. "First," she said, "I would like this entire row to stand up." Puzzled, Harry watched Ron and Hermione gather their stuff and get up, looking at each other with interrogation marks printed in their eyes. Harry saw, to his great displeasure, that Draco was laughing with the other Slytherins. He seemed to think that something funny was going to happen – funny for them of course. Harry sighed. It seemed as thought they would have to bear a carbon copy of Snape as a teacher. After all, she was just like him: an ancient Slytherin who had suffered because of the pride and arrogance of the Gryffondors. And she hated his father as bad as the potions master did. This thought shattered in Harry's mind when she smiled. "Thank you dears. Now you," she added, turning to the Slytherins this time, "will also get on your feet." An entire row lifted immediately, fear painted on their faces. They seemed to think that they would have to live what Malefoy had been describing to them seconds earlier. "Or maybe they know her," Harry thought, "and they're aware she's a cold-blooded murderer." She didn't look like one thought. She wasn't quite tall, and she was rather skinny. But the boy quickly glanced at the wand she wore tucked in her belt: he did not know how much misery it had caused, but he felt that the answer was big. "Alright now, switch." Most students seamed petrified, not understanding what she meant by _switch_, but Hermione had understood. Taking her books and bag with her, she crossed the room and sat on the chair in front of Malfoy. Everyone held their breath. She had just crossed a sacred line that had remained untouched for more than half a century.

"What is everyone waiting for?" Thalia asked with a smile. "I know Mrs. Granger is one of the smartest students of this school, but I didn't think this meant all the rest of you had the intelligence of a five year old." Harry quickly looked at Hermione: she didn't seem to know if she was supposed to take this comment as a compliment or as sarcasm. Finally, she simply remained silent. Thalia's shoulders fell a few centimeters. She looked at different students, who's eyes all immediately shifted to the ground. "You don't want to split up," she muttered to herself. Her voice was filled with disgust. "You are so proud of the ridiculous little sign on your chests that you don't want to stand beside someone wearing a different one. I…" She almost added something, then simply stopped talking. "I'm warning you, I am not starting this class until each and everyone of you is sitting on the bench I have assigned them, and don't think you can beat me on this point. I will literally levitate each and every one of you to your new places if…" As she said that, she put her hand to her waist and grabbed her wand. Harry was silently praying for all the others to move, and quickly. Strangely, he didn't like the idea of Thalia angrily waving a wand at him. But the students quickly realized that the only way of avoiding a quick fly through the class was of changing places, and they rapidly did so. "Good," the teacher said, "now everyone sitting in the first, third and fifth rows, you will switch place with the person sitting next to you." Once again, Harry simply sat still, as he saw every other student in the class shift. As they were doing so, he saw Thalia's strategy: now, every Slytherin student was surrounded by four Gryffondor students, who where all surrounded by four Slytherin students, and so on and so forth. In general, the class probably looked like a huge red and green chess board. "Alright. Now unless you want to be sitting like this throughout the entire year, you will make the effort of mixing up with the other house. I don't want you to become best friends, I just want to you at least pretend you don't want to kill yourselves. Now," she added, "Mrs. Juste, would you happen to be the daughter of Richard Juste?"

* * *

The class passed quickly. The first half-hour was dedicated to Thalia renewing with ancient friends – usually the parents of the students sitting before her. During that time, Harry realized she had many contacts: she knew at least three blood-relatives of every wizard in the class, even the Slytherins. "That's probably why Dumbledore wants her on our side," Harry thought. "She's like a huge database of every Death Eater that ever was." The second part of the class consisted in Thalia explaining how her classes would work. In general, they were quite unorthodox. Every class would be spent experimenting new phenomena and discovering new creatures – creatures she would of course bring here, in class. Every student would then have to write up their own notes for the exams. No homework would be given except this. Many students were relieved hearing Thalia utter these words, but Harry knew it was a poisonous gift. Only last year, he had accumulated more than half a meter high of notes in DADA classes. Writing all these from scrap was going to be hell. Finding Hermione in the mixed crowd, he gave her a smile.

She smiled back, then raised her hand. "Yes dear?" Thalia kindly asked. She had been extraordinarily nice to Hermione that day, probably trying to compensate for the fact that she knew absolutely nobody in her family. "How do we know we're not completely wrong in our notes?" the student asked. Harry heard Ron laugh. "Like Hermione could ever be wrong…" he thought, making eye contact with her. She darted her angry eyes on him, then focused herself back on Thalia. Harry understood. The question was for him. Hermione had been clear enough: this year, she would not lend any of her notes to the two boys. "This way, you will learn to be responsible!" she had said with exasperation the 45th time they had asked why. Harry and Ron had looked intensely at her, until she finally admitted. "Alright, Dumbledore asked me to… But you do need to be responsible!" she had quickly added at the sight of the guys' grins. Thalia seemed happy to hear that question. "Finally," she said, "a student preoccupied by her exams! Do you realize that you're the only student today that asked this question?"

Hermione kept silent, and Thalia went on. "Every Wednesday night, I will go into a common room to help you out with your notes. I will see the Slytherins every first week of the month and the Gryffondors every last week of the month." Harry wondered if Thalia had done on purpose to postpone their meeting to the furthest day she could. "Probably," he simply thought, as the bell rang. Two seconds later, Hermione was by his side. "Do you realize for the first time ever a teacher is ready to let us learn by ourselves!" she quickly said, a huge smile printed on her lips. "Oh, I just can't wait!" she added as Ron approached. They were about to leave the now empty room when Thalia called. "Harry?" she asked. The boy turned around and slowly walked down to her desk as his friends stayed timidly by the door. He was wondering what he could have done wrong. After all, Thalia had asked him to stay far away from her. Why would she want to talk to him? Maybe she thought he was sitting to close to her. "No," Harry thought, "I was at the back of the class. Maybe she expects me to skip each and every DADA class…" This was ridiculous, but he couldn't think of any thing else he had done wrong. "Do you usually act this way in class?" she asked when he finally reached her, not being able to walk any slower without simply stopping or going backwards. "What?" Harry asked.

"When you are in class, do you always act like this or were you trying to be polite and calm in order to make a good first impression?"

"No, I'm usually like this. Except when I'm sleeping…" he added, wondering why she was asking this weird question.

She didn't seem angry or mad, she just seemed curious. As he dived into his head searching for the memories of his previous years in Hogwarts, he realised he had not changed an ounce. Thalia laughed a little, then she quickly spoke. "Well if you're always this way I guess I'm going to have to tell Severus to give you a chance."


	3. Chapter 3

Harry simply wouldn't believe that Thalia could stop Snape from making his year as hellish as the previous four. The next morning, as he ran down into the dungeons, holding in his teeth his daily breakfast composed of three cold toasts, he tried picturing a smiling potions master, warmly welcoming him into the classroom. The mere thought of this unreal sight made Harry laugh, and as he did so he nearly choked on his morning meal. He finally swallowed the dry bread, and he sprinted the last meters separating him from Snape's designated local. He finally sat down next to Ron as the bell loudly rang. Snape walked in the class, looking as angry as usual, and rapidly stepped up to his desk. "Greetings, everyone," he said, looking at the class sitting before him, "and welcome to your first potions class. Now it seems that I have been very clear the last few years about the behavior I will and will not accept in this class." As his mouth slowly pronounced these words, his cold eyes wandered through the class, fixing students at random – well, Gryffondor students at random. Harry felt the intense gaze fall upon him for a few seconds, but the teacher quickly looked away, terrifying other students instead of Harry. Puzzled, he didn't really know what to think: up to know, Snape had acted exactly as he had expected. Not knowing if this was a good or a bad sign, Harry reached for his bag and started looking for a quill. Not that he needed any one: Snape's classes rarely necessitated taking notes of any sort. Simply, during the summer, Harry had taken the habit of making important decisions by entirely trusting faith, or simple luck. This time, this system would predict the future: if the quill he picked was black, then he would know Thalia had failed and Snape would be as unfair and unpleasant as his reputation promised, but if he picked a white quill, then it would be a sign that Thalia had succeeded and that he would finally experience an entire year without suffering from any harassment whatsoever. As he ventured into the deep abysses of his leather bag, he heard the words "Mister Potter" coming from the front of the class.

He had finally put hand on a quill, but he had no use taking it out of his bag: he already knew it was black. "Yes, sir?" Harry calmly asked. He had to admit this was not a big deception: he knew deep down in his heart that nothing would ever change Snape's mind or attitude. He was mentally preparing himself to receive a particularly degrading insult when he heard Snape talk. At first, he wasn't sure he had heard correctly, but the surprised look on his friend's faces – and the astonished faces of his enemies – confirmed to him that he had heard right. Now this was clear, Harry replayed Snape's command in his relieved brain.

"Would you mind bringing me the vials found to your left?" the deep voice had said. Harry turned his head and saw a row of flasks waiting on a nearby counter. The boy quickly looked around: he seemed to be the student sitting the closest to the flasks, and it was therefore normal for the teacher to ask _him_ to bring them up. He quickly raised from the seat he had been slouched on, and as he did so the quill he was holding fell to the floor. He ignored it and walked up to the row of vials. He placed them rapidly in a nearby stand and then deposited them on the potions master's desk. He even overheard a muttered "Thank you" emanating from his teacher. He addressed the man a small smirk and nearly ran back down to his place near his friend. As he did so, the redhead put something in his hands, quietly whispering "You dropped this." Later on, during the class, Harry took a look at what Ron had given him: it was a white quill.

* * *

"I just can't believe she managed to convince him to be nicer to me!" Harry nearly shouted for the fifth time that night. The common room was quite full, and since nobody had received any homework during the first week of school, all the Gryffondor's were busy talking, laughing, and making it a loud and noisy place. Actually, the small circular chamber was so filled with noises of all sorts that almost nobody had heard Harry's scream. The only exception to this was Fred Weasley, who had been eavesdropping on Harry, Ron and Hermione for a little while. Hearing this, he jumped out of nowhere on the couch the three friends were occupying. "I guess," he mentioned as a huge grin appeared on his face, "that she is _really _good in bed." Before any image had time to enter his already traumatized mind, Harry started concentrating on the image of a white daisy. When he finally managed to open his eyes without seeing things he did not want to see, he observed that Ron was hiding into the red pillows adorning the couch and that Hermione was staring at a laughing Fred with a severe look. The Weasley went on. "No really, I mean once you take a guy by the guts…"

"All I mean," Harry interrupted, "is that I'm surprised a Slytherin did as much to help a Gryffondor."

"What?" asked the newly arrived George, who had joined the group in order to ruin his younger brother's mental sanity a little more.

"Well, it must have been really hard to convince Snape to like me! Dumbledore never even managed to, and he has a huge influence on…"

"Dumbeldore probably doesn't look as good in those dresses," said George with a wink.

"Or out of them!" added Fred.

"All I mean," Harry nearly yelled, trying to cover up the twin's giggles, "is that I don't understand why an ancient Slytherin would go through so much trouble for a Gryffondor student."

"Wait, Harry," Fred suddenly said, abandoning his childish jokes, which finally permitted Ron to leave the refugee of the red and golden pillows surrounding him, "Thalia isn't a Slytherin."

"Are you kidding me? She's an ancient Death Eater, how could she not be in Slytherin!?" he laughed. "The Sorting Hat definitely went wrong somewhere. So what house was she in? Ravenclaw?"

"She was a Gryffondor."

Harry couldn't believe it. How could the Gryffondor house, known for it's values of braveness and virtue, ever be soiled by the presence of a Death Eater? "Are… are you sure? How can you know?" Harry quietly stuttered. The twins had not realized that this information had affected him so badly, and were now bringing their attention back on Ron. George still took of his precious time to quickly deliver a coherent answer, which was rare in his case. "She told us last summer at a reunion… You remember Ron, the day she and Snape had arrived a little late…" he added at the intention of his brother, who was now covering his ears with his hands and loudly humming a Christmas song.

* * *

The next monday morning, Harry was welcomed in Defense Against the Dark Arts class by an angry looking Malfoy. "Potter, sit at the back," he simply said.

"What?" asked Harry, who would prefer dying than obeying Malfoy's orders.

"Sit at the back of the class, that way I won't have to stand the presence of those Mudbloods polluting the air around me," he said with disgust, staring at someone Harry could not see, but guessed was Hermione.

"Alright," Harry simply answered.

For the first time ever, he understood Malfoy. He had not appreciated Thalia's seating plan, and he was ready to do anything to avoid it: even to collaborate with his sworn enemy. As Malfoy left to warn a group of Gryffondors that had just arrived, Harry heard him mutter. "I just can't believe it."

"What?" Harry asked for the second time in about a minute. He was starting to feel the effects of his lack of sleep on his ability to understand common words and expressions.

"I can't believe she's being such a bitch. She's an old friend of my father, and I thought she would be less conventional than our stupid Headmaster," he turned back to answer.

The boy was about to leave again when he heard Harry giggle. Insulted, he came back to him, tightly clasping his wand. "Why are you laughing?" he asked, silently challenging Harry with his eyes.

"You call that conventional? She's the first teacher who's ever encouraged us to mix up and to ignore the houses." Malfoy, not knowing what to answer, simply stood in front of Harry, his mouth slightly opened. The Gryffondor continued, still grinning. "Actually," he said, "she might even suceed."

"How come?" Malfoy said, finally coming back to his senses.

"Well, she's making us collaborate… in order to stay apart. Don't you realize?" he added at the sight of the Slytherin's puzzled look. "Today, you spoke to Gryffondors just to make sure you wouldn't need to sit beside Gryffondors. You're talking to me… because you can't stand me and you won't take the risk to sit next to me today. You gave in and you abandoned part of your principles so you could save you principles. That woman is wicked smart," he simply added.

"Come on boys," Thalia said, appearing out of nowhere, "the class is about to start, and you can't attend it if you're standing in the corridors."

They both quickly entered the room, finding places near to their respective friends. Harry realized that though the students were less spread out than last class, it was hard to find more than two or three red uniforms together, and it was the same with the green robes. Harry saw Thalia analyze the disposal of the students, and then smile. She had accepted the new seating plan. As she started magically writing down an introduction on the board, Harry could see she was looking at him with an amused look on her face. He smiled back to her, and she finally broke the eye contact they had been holding for about half a minute. Nevertheless, as she walked down the aisle to get a mysterious cage that was at the back of the class, he saw her mouth the words: "Nice going." Harry chuckled alone on his uncomfortable seat, and he brought his eyes on Thalia just in time to see Malfoy was waving his wand in her back. He hit Hermione in the ribs and pointed to her with his chin what he had just seen. They nodded accordingly and they both drew their own wands. But before they could do anything, they saw a flash and Malfoy lying on the ground. Stunned, they looked at their teacher and discovered she had two wands in hand – her own and Malfoy's. She looked angry, but also quite disappointed. "Try using this spell again," she said before he even had time to utter a single word in his defense, "and I'll use it too. You'll discover that in this case the student won't overpass the master." Harry had not seen the spell in action, so he couldn't have said what actions it performed, but he would have bet his left hand that it was dark magic.

Since that day, Thalia had had a very hard time controlling Malfoy. Harry and his friends had thought at first that they would suit each other just fine, based on their cordial greetings and Thalia's apparent fondness for Lucius Malfoy, but they realised quickly enough that Thalia's new methods caused a great displeasure to Draco. Within a few weeks, he had turned nearly mad. In soon four and a half years of living with the boy, Harry had never see him so troublesome. Each and every class, he would do his possible to create chaos – and most of the time he would succeed. Also, Thalia refused to use any common punishments, such as giving out detention or withdrawing House Points. On the contrary, she insisted in assigning the disturbing student odd and painful tasks, when she wasn't plainly threatening them. Sadly, none of these ever manage to stop Malfoy from wrecking each and every class. The boy seemed to believe that anything that wouldn't appear in his student record had no importance at all, and therefore had no impact on his behavior. It was only after a few days that Haary understood his ennemy's logic: what didn't leave any written traces couldn't be shown to the only person Malfoy dreaded: his father. It took Thalia slightly longer to understand this, but when she did, she managed to turn this little fear to her advantage. Actually, to be honest, Malefoy was lucky she had used this avenue: if she had not been under the supervision of Dumbledore, Harry was sure she would have dug him a grave instead.


	4. Chapter 4

It all started with what any student would have called a magical incident, but what Harry and his acolytes had learned to call a normal day in Hogwarts. For the boy who had discovered the passage to the Chamber of secrets and flown over the school grounds flying on a stolen hyppogriff, one of Malfoy's practical jokes was just simple routine. Harry later on learned that the day in question, the boy had entered the DADA class about 5 minutes before the bell for the last period rang and had released the Devil's Fog samples that Thalia had locked up in the room's wardrobe and that would be studied that day. Now the Slytherin only knew this substance by reputation, and so he thought it was dangerous. He ignored, on the other hand, that it could be mortal.

He thought that the sight of half agonizing students would be quite a good joke, probably earning this fondness for cruel hoaxes from his beloved father. He had therefore warned all the Slytherin students to arrive about 30 seconds late to the class and to prepare for a good show, adding nothing more. His plan would have succeeded if Thalia hadn't arrived early to her own class in order to prepare the precious specimens for the arrival of the teenagers. When Harry arrived with the first Gryffondors, he witnessed a horrifying scene: their teacher was lying unconscious on the ground, blood leaking from her eyes, and a black mist was floating around her, making it impossible to discern half of her frail silhouette. Even if very few Gryffondors knew the mere existence of Devil's Fog, they realized that such a scene could not be normal and they closed to doors to prevent the vapors, that had started whispering at their arrival, to reach them. It was only when Hermione wiped a tear of blood from her face that they realized that the thick haze was flowing from under the door and quickly clutching to their feet and ankles. "We have to get a teacher to come," Hermione said, rummaging through her bag looking for her DADA book.

"Sure," quickly replied Neville, "I'll go get Professor MacGonagall."

"NO!" loudly shouted Malfoy, sprinting towards the class from behind a massive column that he was probably using as hiding spot.

He walked to the door and pressed his nose against the window in order to get a better view of the macabre events that were lying before his eyes. Harry heard him mutter a low "Shit!". It was obvious the boy was nervous: his hands were trembling, and the little color that usually hid behind his features had vanished. His eyes were beginning to twitch as he murmured "Go get Snape".

"Coward," Ron said to Harry, as Crabbe and Neville ran down to the dungeons, both fighting to arrive first and to have to right to explain their version of the story to the potions master.

"I know," Harry simply answered, slightly scowling at the sight of Neville tripping in the stairs.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked as she arrived between her two friends.

"Well he clearly wants Snape to come because he knows that if any other teacher learns he almost killed Thalia, he will be in big trouble," Ron pointed out.

"He might even get expelled," Harry added.

"Maybe, but he's still doing the right thing," Hermione replied, wiping another tear of blood that had dropped out of her eye. "Once Snape realizes that Thalia was attacked by the Devil's Fog, he will know exactly what counter-poison to use and Thalia will be safe."

"Yeah," Ron sneered at Hermione, "Thalia's safety: _that's_ what's truly preoccupying Malfoy."

The three laughed, and Hermione finally conceded that Draco's call for Snape was a totally selfish act. "But selfish or not," she added, "it's just stupid."

"How come?" the two boys asked simultaneously.

"Well Thalia is probably the best thing that ever happened to Snape since his birth. He'll never forgive Malfoy for harming her so badly."

Panic took possession of Harry's body when he saw an angry yet worried Snape climbing up the steps at at rapid pace. The tall man wore a small bag filled with vials of all sorts slung over his shoulder, and he was followed by an out of breath Neville. Panting, the boy approached the hoard of Gryffondors that was massed by the door and said: "I arrived there first. " He seemed about to faint, but a huge grin illuminated his features. The potions master, on the other hand, seemed far from happy. He stopped at a reasonable distance from the door, and the students automatically gathered around his tall and dark figure. "First of all," he slowly said, articulating every word very closely, "I want everyone to calm down." The different groups of panicked students immediately ceased all whining of any sort, as if magically soothed. Malfoy also seemed to come back to his senses, and he even built up enough self-insurance to pronounce the words "But professor…" Snape immediately set his piercing gaze on the boy, who simply stopped half way through his sentence. Blood was dripping from his pale eyes, making the picture simply frightful, and silence installed between the two men. Malfoy was clearly gauging Snape, but the potions master simply didn't flinch. All the frustration and anger of the world were concentrated in his two pupils, and his look was so cruel that Harry wondered for a second if it was not that look that was responsible for the crimson liquid leaking from Draco's eyes. The teacher finally detached his burning stare from the Slytherin and continued: "Now those of you who are weeping blood, do not throw yourself at Madam Pomfresh's doors: simply go back to your common rooms and swallow an ounce of armadillo bile. Do not worry," he added as the girls in the assistance smirked, "you can dilute it in anything from Butterbear to pumpkin juice without adulterating it's effect. For the few of you who already have strands of white hair, calmly head towards the infirmary, and once again, do not panic! I still recommend that you pay a little visit to the school nurse if you do not the light to permanently disappear from your eyes within the next few days."

Harry threw a quick glance at Thalia's body and observed that more than half of her rich brown hair had turned white. Around him, students were starting to checking each others heads, and a few of them burst into tears, creating a wave of panic that had quickly grew on the entire group. The boy had to admit that Snape's words were far from reassuring, but they had the advantage of being true. Realizing that he was still standing in the small cloud of Devil's Fog that had formed in the hallway, he had stepped back. "What did I say about staying calm?" Snape asked loudly, causing a few cries of fear. "Now all of you will go into your respective common rooms, drink a single ounce of armadillo bile and take a shower until all the mist floating around you has gone. We don't want you to spread it anymore than it already is… Those with white hair you will go to the infirmary and the other ones will stay put until a teacher come and get you, do I make myself clear. Mr. Longbottom, you will go get Ms. MacGonagall and help her clear up this mess," he added, pouring different liquids that vanished with the fog before even touching the ground. "And Malefoy, you will go see Professor Dumbledore. Now please excuse me, but I do not have time to answer to all you ridiculous questions. I can assure you that all students will survive this oh so difficult experience, but sadly I cannot say so about Miss Beauregard, so I ask you to please get out of my way so I can step in this classroom before Death itself does so." All the students moved away from the door and started leaving the hallway in direction of the infirmary, but Harry remained besides the door for about another minute. What he witnessed he never mentioned to Ron and Hermione, who had already departed for the Gryffondor common room. He saw Snape gently kiss Thalia on the forehead, and then empty a huge bottle of a purple substance on the ground. The fog then hardened and fell to the ground in the shape of little black beads. The potions masters then started pouring the content of little glass vials into Thalia's half open mouth. After a few seconds, Harry felt the blood streaming for his eyes reaching his neck and he left the scene, but he had stayed long enough to view the tears that were filling the eyes of his hated teacher, mixing up with the blood that was starting to flow.

* * *

Harry met Ron about 15 minutes later as he entered the boy's showers in the Gryffondor Tower. His friend was leaving the installations, a horrified look on his features. When Harry had asked the red head the reason of his fear, he had simply frowned a little bit more. "It's just… disgusting," he said, his eyes wandering freely, fixing themselves upon random objects. "For the first time in my life, I actually pity the house elves," he added with a smile. "But hey, don't tell Hermione." Harry smiled and entered the shower. It was only in there that he understood was Ron was talking about. The blue tiles that composed the shower walls were covered with a black slime that resembled tar. It's only difference with this substance was that it was moving. It had it's own sense of motion, as if animated by some sort of spirit. Harry shivered as we wondered how literal was the expression _Devil_'s Fog. Harry felt his heart jump and he could almost feel it jerk up his throat. As he gathered up his courage to step into a cabins, he saw Seamus leaving one of them. "That ain't no _fashion twist_," he said with a wink, quickly leaving the slimy bathroom. Harry smiled back and took a little pause, simply disgusted by the idea of approaching any closer the substance. It was only when he understood that only water would stop his nose from showering his body with red liquid blotches that Harry closed his eyes and stepped into the shower the closest to him. It only took a minute and a half to remove all the mist covering him, and a soon as the boy was sure he was clean, he threw himself into a thick, warm towel and ran out of the washrooms.

He was received in the common room by a volley of feminine giggles, which he chose to ignore. He quickly found Hermione sitting by the fireplace, wrapped up in a long woolen scarf, reading a book that probably weigh a ton. When he asked were was Ron, she replied: "He's at madam Pomfresh's, of course."

"How come?"

"Haven't you hear Snape? All people with white hair…"

"Must go to the infirmary, right, I remember. How bad was his hair?"

"Oh, he was fine honestly, only a few strands were paler than the rest. I offered to cure him myself, but he really preferred to see a specialist. It's funny how after all those times I saved his life he still doesn't thrust me."

She had said all this without detaching her eyes from the aged pages of the huge volume she had on her knees. Harry looked over her shoulder and understood she was reading about The Devil's Fog. A few glances at the images illustrating the book convinced him to go for a walk in the castle. As he stepped outside, the fat lady in the portrait guarding the access to the common room spoke to him. "Are you clean?" she asked with her high pitched voice

"Yeah, just stepped out of the shower," Harry replied with a smile, pointing at his wet hair.

"Oh good! I don't want that revolting slime all over me, especially not after I bought my new Christmas dress."

Harry looked at the fat lady's avalanche of red and green ribbons and promptly complimented her, and then left the hallway, searching for something to do. He had finally decided to go meat the other students in the Great Hall when he heard Peeves flying in his direction. Avoiding the poltergeist, he hid behind an armor and watched a group of terrified Ravenclaws try escaping an unfailing salvo of pebbles. When they finally escaped and Peeves went of to pursue other errands, Harry left the crowded left wing and entered the right wing, that was usually empty around lunchtime, and which gave him all the silence he needed for his reflections.

* * *

As he was calmly wandering in the corridors, he heard a piercing screech hit his ears. "Where is he?"

"He is in my office, and from this moment on I will take care of his case," Dumbledore replied.

"Absolutely not, this… murder attempt," Thalia said after a while, "happened during my class, so the punishment to give to the boy is under my jurisdiction."

"It was until Snape sent him to my office," the Headmaster replied.

"Well thanks for doing that", Thalia added, apparently furious.

"Oh I'm so sorry, my dear," said a deep voice that Harry recognized as being Snape's. "I guess I should have kept him with me instead of doing all my possible in order to keep you into this world."

"Alright I get it," Thalia finally said. "Thank you for the saving my life part, by the way."

"You're absolutely welcome. Do you really think I would have let the Devil bring you down in hell with him?" he asked, sounding amused.

"Of course not, you're way to possessive for that," Thalia giggled.

"Oh haha! Now stop moving if you ever want you hair to be brown again."

Silence fell into the corridor, only interrupted by a few of Thalia's complaints. Apparently, the cure to the Devil's Fog was slightly painful. Devil's Fog. Harry shivered again, thought he was standing close to flaming torches, as he realized that a few seconds ago, he had been in contact with Satan himself. When the conversation stopped, Harry realized that the three teachers were probably in the teacher's room, situated on the angle between the corridor he was standing in and the one perpendicular to it. Taking a few steps, he finally caught a sight of the scene he was overhearing. Thalia was sitting in a large chair and the potions master was standing behind her, applying a brown substance to her hair, which was already starting to get darker. Dumbledore was standing, both facing them. It was Thalia who finally resumed the conversation by asking the man facing her: "So what do you intend on doing?"

"The boy will be in detention every weekend until Easter," he simply replied, as if the conversation had never drifted away from it's original subject, which Harry guessed was Malfoy.

"That's it?" Miss. Beauregard continued, looking absolutely astonished.

"I will also retract 150 points from the Slytherin House," he added.

"Shit," Harry saw, more than he heard, Snape mutter.

"Oh, you and your ridiculous House Cup," Thalia replied to Snape, tilting her head upwards in order to smile at him. "But still," she said, turning her head back to a normal angle and facing Dumbledore again, "I refuse. It's not this way that we'll ever manage to change the kid, he has serious behavior problems and I know there's only one thing that will put a stop to that."

"So what do _you_ intend on doing then?" Dumbledore asked, exasperated.

"I'm going to go see Lucius."

Harry did not see Dumbledore's reaction, but he saw that Snape had frowned at the simple mention of Draco's father. Nevertheless, it was Dumbledore that replied first. "I know it's the thing to do," he said, diplomatic, "but Lucius Malfoy has refused each and every invitation to meat a teacher we have ever sent him." This news, that should have been dramatic to Thalia, seemed quite amusing to her. She simply smiled and looked up at Snape, who smiled to her before switching back to his anterior expression the second she stopped observing him. Looking straight in the Headmaster's blue eyes, she simply said: "Truth be said, I know that Mr. Malefoy will refuse to meat Miss Beauregard. But," she added as her interlocutor was about to speak, "I'm certain that Lucius would never refuse a little visit from Thalia."

"So it is," Dumbedore simply answered. "You can go see the boy's father during the weekend."

On these simple words, he saluted them and went to the back of the small room. There, he lifted a heavy tapestry and a door instantly left the darkness to expose itself to all that were there.

As Dumbledore entered the secret passage, Snape abandoned his task, pulled himself a chair and sat in front of Thalia. They both remained silent for about a minute, as if guessing they were not alone, and then finally Snape oppened his mouth and questioned Thalia. "You really want to go?"

"Yes," the woman replied, rolling her eyes.

"Look, you know the man's admiration for you has no limits and…"

"And you know my admiration for him _has_ limits. You would have reasons to be scared if a was a stupid rag doll with no will power, but I happen to be a woman who knows when to say no."

"Alright then. Well have a good trip."

"Hey, I'm only leaving tomorrow."

"Yeah I know… you really don't think there's any other way to…"

"No!" Thalia almost screamed. "I've already told you, I am not letting Draco get out if this one. He can play innocent all he wants, but he's the son of Lucius Malfoy. The guy probably knew the composition of Devil's Fog before he even knew the composition of pumpkin juice! He could have killed half of his group if I hadn't arrived early, and the worst is, he wouldn't even had cared…"

"He seem scared of what he had done to you…" Snape pointed out.

"Because he knew he would be in trouble!" Thalia interrupted him. "You know as well as me that he did this voluntarily, and that the only person that can have influence on him is his father. I'm telling you, this will be of big aid to all the teachers who couldn't stand him either."

"That is, if you can get his father to shut him up.

"Oh, I'm sure I will…"

Thalia finally soothed herself, and when she spoke again, she had reached a quite lower one of voice. "Anyways," she said, "pulling herself out of the cozy bench, "I have to get back to my room. Classes are over anyways…" Harry looked at his wristwatch and saw it was already five o' clock. His friends were probably waiting for him in the common room: after all, the classes had ended about half an hour ago, when Harry had left the Gryffondor tower. Inside himself, he knew he should leave his hiding spot and go back to his friends, but he was strangely fascinated by what he was seeing. He had to admit it: since he had started listening to the secret conversations that took place in the Order of the Phoenix, he had developed a certain taste for eavesdropping and learning new secrets. Only the conversation ended quite quickly, and he didn't have time to learn anything worthy. "True," Snape said, walking up to kiss her. "I guess I'll see you Monday then."

"Wait a minute," Thalia said, pulling away from his embrace and walking up to the exit Dumbledore had used moments ago, "I'm only leaving tomorrow morning. Coming?"

Snape smiled at her invitation, but still nodded. Lifting up the heavy bag of vials of all sorts, he simply whispered: "I'll see you in a second, I just have to bring these back in the classroom."

"Sure…. Why don't you come up here," she replied with a wink.

Harry shrugged. For some reason, Thalia wanted the potions master to enter that dark, secret corridor. He did not want to know why. Luckily enough, he didn't have to fall asleep that night as a traumatized kid, as Snape poke. "I'm sorry, I won't, but why don't you prepare whatever you had in mind for…" Harry immediately shut his mind to everything surrounding him. When he oppened his eyes and unblocked his ears, he heard the man's deep voice say: "Yes, it's quicker if I use the normal corridor." Harry's thought were swallowed by the racket his heart made is it thudded loudly against his chest. If his teacher found him spying on his most intimate conversations… He quickly got up and sprinted towards the end of the corridor. As he thought he had made it, he heard Snape calling for his name, sounding absolutely furious: "Potter!"

Harry stopped the second he heard his name, and turned around right in time to see Snape running towards him. "He's going to execute me in this corridor," was the only thought that crossed Harry's mind. His brain was ordering his legs to start running, but the boy refused to listen to them. Running would prove to all he was guilty, and in this case he couldn't even try to get out of this situation with his words. He therefore stood straight as a tree when the teacher arrived and violently grabbed his hair. Puzzled, Harry simply gagged at the pain that quickly vanished. He did not know what to think: was Snape trying to scalp him in a strange, new way? His movements were gentle, as it seemed he was analyzing his hair more than he was ripping it off from his head. "You pretentious idiot," he heard Snape mutter through his teeth, "you thought the Devil wouldn't dare attacking the great Harry Potter?"

"What?" Harry asked, not sure if Snape was talking to him or not.

"Go to the infirmary, and now!"

He released Harry and immediately turned to his right, talking the long alley of steps that led to his beloved dungeons. Harry stayed still for a moment, then started walking towards the infirmary, as he had been told. It was only when he walked by a mirror that he understood the potions master's reaction: the Devil's Fog had affected him more than he thought, and now about a third of his thick black hair was a white as snow.

* * *

The next day, all the students were healed and they were now heroes among the other students: someone, probably a Slytherin, had started the rumor that the students had actually fought against the Devil, instead of simply washing him off. When Fred and George asked Harry and Ron to relate to them the epic tale of the battle against the Devil itself, they had been quite honest. "Well at first, he had an obvious advantage on me," Ron said, immediately captivating his two older brothers, "but when I turned on the shower, you could sense in the air that the wind was turning and that soon I would show him who was superior. When the water started running, it's faith was sealed: it would transform into…" Harry saw the two redheads hold their breath, waiting to see in what fantastic and deadly creature the Devil had shaped into when in contact with the clear and pure water. Ron took a theatrical pause, and continued. " … a harmless slime that was later on collected by a bunch of innocent house elves." Harry joined Ron in his laughter at the sight of the other boys' expression: you could obviously see they were disappointed, but they also seemed to have realized that everything they had heard for the last 24 hours was simple rubbish.

The finally managed to turn the situation at their advantage when, as they were heading to eat breakfast, they heard Crabbe and Goyle parasing their own courage in front of a group of younger, and obviously impressed, Slytherin girls. "So then we discovered," Goyle said, "the way to annihilate him."

"Annihilate…" said Fred. "Well now we know this text was learned off by heart and written by someone else."

"We had no clue what it was," continued Goyle, who hadn't heard the Gryffondor's comment, "and we had to find it out quickly, because our lives were in danger."

"Yeah," said George, loud enough for the crowd to hear this time, "it's not like Snape had told you that water was enough to eliminate him."

The girls looked at the two boys, asking for explanantions, but they somehow managed to turn the situation back around. "True, but have you ever tried to attack the Devil, with any kind of substance?" Crabbe asked, redirecting his attention on the group of grils, who looked impressed. "It was the hardest ordeal of my life."

"Why, was the shower so hard to open?" asked Fred.

The Gryffondor's went roaring with laughter and continued their walk. "Too bad Malfoy wasn't there," George said.

As it is, Malfoy only appeared a week later. Harry knew perfectly well where the boy was: he was at home with his father and Thalia, probably getting the punishment of a life time. By respect for Thalia and Snape, but mostly for Dumbledore, he chose to talk about what he had seen only to Ron and Hermione. Therefore, when, on Monday, they discovered Malfoy's chair was empty, they were the only ones to understand why and to deny the rumors that mentionned he had been killed by the Devil's Fog last Friday. Only, when on Wednesday the three Gryffondors noticed that their enemy was still absent, and Thalia had returned to the school, they started worrying. What if someone else had killed Malfoy? The thought wasn't very saddening, but it was sure frightening: Thalia had enough influence on Lucius Malfoy to make him punish his son so badly he could not present himself to classes. What influence did she have on other Death Eaters? Also, the kids wondered if she was responsible for Draco's disparition. Finally, it was on Friday that the Slytherin finally showed up to class. He was unharmed, but he seemed as withdrawned as ever. Even his Slytherin compatriots ignored the reason of his absence. Harry didn't know how, but in some way students had made the link between Draco's ridiculously dangerous prank and his missed week of class, making at the same time the link between him and Thalia. Very few knew she was an old friend of his father's, and even fewer knew about her visit. After a few weeks, the students calmed down, and by Christmas everyone had forgotten this story. Only one thing remained: Malfoy was finally calm and obedient, eand everyone stayed out of Thalia's way.


	5. Chapter 5

"The Thin Ice!" Thalia dramatically announced, revealing a small mirror that had been hidden behind a thick velvet cape. Placed on an old wooden easel, it was about a feet large, and it was perfectly square. In the sunlight, the piece of what seemed to be glass reflected the class sitting before it, it's smooth and polished surface acting just like a regular mirror. If Hermione hadn't seemed impressed, Harry would have thought that was what Thalia was presenting them. Only, after a while, the image faded, then completely disappeared, leaving the piece of what seemed to be glass was as clear as crystal, and Harry understood why it was called _Thin Ice_: he could see through the mirror as if it had been nonexistent. He could easily distinguish Thalia and her belongings through the object, without any distortion. "It's even clearer than glass," Harry thought as he looked at one of the class windows in order to compare it's purity with the Thin Ice. Harry sighed. Today, any piece of junk would seem like crystal compared to the dirty, frosty windows of the castle. It was a gloomy December day, and though it was only a week before Christmas vacations, it seemed like happiness was years away. For more than a week, the dark sky had been spitting a cold drizzle all over the castle grounds, and now the small drops of water had frozen into a thick coat of ice that prevented the students from stepping outside without slipping and cracking their heads open. Also, as usual, the teachers had literally doubled the amount of work, in order to to compensate for the upcoming holiday. Therefore, when Thalia had announced that she had reserved a special object for them that day, Harry and Ron had imagined themselves meeting with something… a little more challenging than a piece of glass that was so thin it seemed that it could be broken with a simple wink. Harry looked at Ron, who replied with the same disappointment look. Only, they both glimpsed at Hermione, sitting a few desks further, who looked simply ecstatic. When their eyes met again, they were filled with anticipation. Harry whispered to his friend: "What do you think it is?"

"I don't have a clue," replied the redhead, "but it's going to be good."

"Now Remus – Professor Lupin told me," started Thalia, quickly realizing that almost nobody knew their former teacher's real name, "that you had already met a Boggart." A wave of approval crossed the class, as everyone nodded affirmatively. "Good," the teacher continued. "So can anyone here tell me what a Boggart does? Yes, Seamus?"

"It shows you what you fear the most," said the boy who had never before answered a teacher's question.

Harry smiled as he saw Seamus blush at Thalia's recognition. Their new teacher seemed to have the same effect on boys as Gilderoy Lockart had on girls about three years ago. "Hope she's not as stupid," he muttered to himself.

"And if I tell you," Thalia went on, unaware of Harry's comment, "that the Thin Ice _almost_ has the same properties as a Boggart, can anyone of you guess what this here does?"

Hermione lifted her hand within a quarter of a second. Harry could see she had been preparing herself for this moment. Thalia looked at her and giggled. "Someone who doesn't _already_ know the answer?" Miss Beauregard added. "No, none? Well then darling," she said to the owner of the hand that was frantically being waved in the airs, "it's your time to shine."

"The Thin Ice doesn't show you what you are scared of, it shows you what you should be scared of. In other words, it shows you the most imminent danger that is threatening you."

"Almost perfect," Thalia said, to Hermione's great displeasure. "You are absolutely right about the true effects of this mirror, but you have one little thing wrong. It's…" Thalia started, unsure of what to say. "I'll try explaining it with an example, so you can understand better. First of all it's important to say that this glass, though it can see in the future, cannot show you the future. For instance, if the greatest peril to my life is a car that will run over me in a few years or so, the Thin Ice will not show me myself being ran over by a car, but the car at this instant."

"And if the car doesn't exist yet?" a student asked.

"Then the mirror can show me the driver of the car, or the manufacturer of the car, or even the very pile of steel that will one day be transformed into a car. Or," Thalia added, as the class giggled, "if the person that is to run over me is going to be drunk that day, the mirror might show me a flask of Fire Whiskey, or even water that will later on be mixed to other ingredients to make that ounce of Fire Whiskey."

"Then how can you know what's going to happen to you?" Ron asked, puzzled. "I mean, if I saw water in the Thin Ice, I would think that I would die drowning or something like that, not ran over by a drunk driver."

"The reading of the Thin Ice is very complicated to learn and is usually taught to wizards who decide to specialize themselves in Divination."

Hermione's suddenly took a horrified look. Divination, which was an inexact science, had lost her respect years ago, and she usually preferred avoiding anything that resembled in any way to this "useless rubbish", to quote her. "But don't be scared," she added at the sight of Hermione's expression, "I won't try to show you how to understand these messages today. First of all, because it is nearly impossible to read someone else's Thin Ice for them. This artifact usually shows us events or objects that are linked to our past: therefore if you ignore someone's past, you can't know their future. Also, these objects base their predictions on symbolism, which is also quite hard to master. It took me more than a year to learn how to interpret these messages for my own, and I thank the Lord every day that I had such a comprehensive teacher to guide me into the deep abysses of Occlumency and interpretation."

"Well of course your teacher stayed with you," Harry heard Ron whisper to his intention, "you sleep with him!"

"What was that, Mr. Weasley?"

"Errm… Then why are you showing us the Thin Ice?" he quickly improvised.

"For many reasons," Thalia replied, apparently satisfied with Ron's answer. "First of all, this subject won't be in any exam, and I thought that you would appreciate a little time off taking notes."

The entire class sighed in relief, as if one, and quickly enough the sound of quills and parchment being put away echoed between the room's stone walls. Even Hermione quickly threw the already filled up piece of parchment she was using to take notes into her bag. "It's probably just to boycott any form of Divination," Harry explained to Ron. After a few seconds, the class fell silent again, awaiting to learn more about the now fascinating object that lied before their curious eyes. "Alright, now that you have all proved to me that all students follow the law of the minimum effort, here are another few reasons for presenting you the Thin Ice. Usually the class in which I show the Thin Ice is rather fun, even if you need to take notes, and most people find this interesting. Also, I recently learned how to craft these, and therefore I have about a dozen of them just lying around in my office for no purpose. Plus, these objects are very useful in one's life, especially around the times Voldemort decides he's going to treat himself to a little fun, like now." The class remained trapped in an uncomfortable silence, until Thalia spoke again. "Now to show you the last property of this artifact, I will ask you a question. What do you think I would see if I looked at myself in this mirror? No no, don't answer out loud. Simply think about it."

Harry did as he was told, and he rummaged through his brain at the research of someone that could possible mean harm to Thalia. In total, it took him about a second to get a list of twenty names. "Of course, Voldemort would want to kill her, because she left the Death Eaters and the punishment for that is death. Also, all the other Death Eaters would want to kill her, since she is fighting against them now," Harry pointed out to himself. "Plus, I'm sure Sirius could very possibly kill her…" After a while, he set his mind on Voldemort, already knowing he would be wrong. After all, how was he expected to know Thalia's enemies? He wasn't the only one who thought so. After a while, the students were starting to give each other concerned looks, and a brave Slytherin student even dared to comment. "But how are we supposed to know how you are going to die?"

"It doesn't matter at all if you're right or no… You don't even need to be close…" she explained. "I just want to demonstrate something without forcing you to think of your own death. So, everyone ready? Lets discover what I should be scared of…"

Saying so, she placed herself in front of the mirror, and gently blew on it, as if she was silently whistling. When she stepped back, the entire class could see, reflected on the mirror a big, gray rat. Every student frowned. Apparently, whatever they had in mind was far from what they were observing. Thalia laughed. "Is this not what you expected to see?" she asked.

"You mean… this rat is what you should worry about for your life?" Hermione replied.

"Who said it was for my life? This Thin Ice shows me what I should be scared of in this present time, which is this rat. Believe it or not," she explained, "it has been nibbling all of my clothing for the last few days."

"So does this mean you're never going to die?" Ron added.

"Why should you think so?"

"Well," the student said, "if the thing you should be most scared of is wrecked clothing, I would believe that you have a happy and eternal life ahead of you."

Thalia simply smiled, of a sad smile that left Harry puzzled. Then, without adding a word, she walked to the back of the class and exited, using a small wooden door that was simply cut out in the wall like any other that, but that somehow had managed to stay unnoticed to Harry for now four years and a half. Before the students had even time to start talking to each other, Thalia stepped back in, holding two square, book-like objects wrapped in the same purple velvet material that had covered the Thin Ice. She gently deposited them on her desk, and she unfolded the thick envelope surrounding the mysterious package. When she was done, Harry saw she had brought with her two other Thin Ices. She took the one on top and she placed it on an empty easel, identical to the one holding the first item. "Now you see, not all Thin Ices can see as far in the future," she finally mentioned. "The thinner a Thin Ice is, the more accurate it is, and the furthest it can see. The one I just showed you, I made myself, and therefore it is quite thick. It can only show me what I should fear for the next 24 hours or so. This one, on the other hand, was made by an expert in potions, and it is therefore much thinner. I can't remember exactly, but I think it's time range is of about a week." Harry couldn't believe it, but it was true: the piece of glass was even thinner than the original one. He couldn't believe that the original could even be considered thick. It was so small and slender, and it didn't seem any larger than a muggle mouse pad, which was quite slim for glass. The second one, on the other hand, was as slender as building paper. "Just to make it clear, I'll try giving you common examples. If, Mr. Weasley, lets say," Thalia said, smiling at Ron, "used the first mirror, he would probably see the image of his two twin brothers, as they are the cause of the most… unpleasant event that will happen to him tonight." Replying at Ron's inquisitive frown, she added: "I would double check my bed tonight if I were you." Abandoning the more familiar tone of voice she had been using, she returned to her explanation. "Then, if Mr. Weasley consulted _this_ mirror," she said, approaching the mirror she had just brought into class, "he would probably see his beloved Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, or the roll of parchment which will be used to write the hour-long exam he and all of his little comrades will receive right before the Christmas vacations."

All the students complained, but Harry had to admit that Ms. Beauregard had been kind enough of warning them in advance. "If he then moved on to an even thinner Ice, he would then be showed the biggest threat lying upon him for the next month."

"Could he see the biggest threat lying upon him for his entire life?" Malefoy asked, talking to Ms. Beauregard for the first time since the Devil's Fog incident.

"Yes he could… But the Ice if too thin for me to bring it in class."

She seemed to be choosing her words, weighing each and every one before daring to pronounce them. "Could we go see it in your office then?" Malefoy continued, curiosity shinning in his pale eyes.

"Absolutely not. A wizard that discovers the cause of his death is bound to go mad. He lives in constant fear, and his death becomes his only obsession. He ruins his whole life trying to save it."

Thalia fell silent, and the students imitated her. Her discourse resembled to what Dumbledore had told Harry when he had discovered the mirror of Erised. "Wizards," Harry thought, "really do have a knack for inventing mind twisting mirrors."

"Anyways, the advantage with thick mirrors are that the images they send are easy to understand, even for students. Therefore," she said, placing the third Thin Ice on it's respective easel, "I brought this one. It was my first success, and is only capable of predicting the next two or three hours, but I thought you could have fun with it for the rest of the period. All you have to do is stand still in front of it and gently blow on it."

She didn't even have time to finish her sentence that a horde of eager students threw themselves to the front of the class, creating a messy line on front of the fragile artefact. As they Slytherins and Gryffondors had fun predicting their future, Ms. Beauregard started putting away the other two mirrors. Only, Harry noticed that as she gently blew on the second Thin Ice, her eyebrows formed a deep frown.


	6. Chapter 6

_Sorry for taking my time... Here's the next chapter. I would appreciate some reviews, nice or not! Be honest!_

A few minutes after the last students had their chance at trying the Thin Ice, the bell rang. As Harry was quickly picking up his bag and rushing towards the exit, he was intercepted by a worried Thalia. "Come with me" were the only words she said as she departed towards the small door situated behind her desk, the three velvet packets under her shoulder. He indicated to Ron and Hermione that he was not going to join them for diner, and he docilely followed his teacher through the door. It unblocked in the DADA teacher office, which he had visited a few times before. Each and every time, the content of the room had been matching with the teacher, and this time was no exception. The desk was quite tidy, entirely covered with papers of all sorts organized into neat little piles. The rest of the room, on the other hand, was a total mess. Books were overflowing from a small library situated on the left wall of the room. On the other stone wall, a huge amount of records were randomly placed on shelves, besides an old record-player that was standing on a table as if on a throne. Before he had time to see anything else, Thalia faced him and spoke. "I could try bringing all I need in here, but it would take a while, so instead I'll just bring you into my apartments. I would ask you to not mention this to anyone likely to spread the word or transform it into a ludicrous rumor." She quickly opened the massive steel door that was facing the small door giving access to the classroom with a key came from God knows where, and as soon as it opened she entered it, closely followed by Harry.

The first sight Harry caught of Thalia's room was a fulminating Snape sitting on a large black leather couch. "So that explains her warning about the rumors," Harry silently told himself, uncertain on how to react. Thalia was still behind him, in what he thought was a simple vestibule, and he knew he couldn't explain his presence here to the potion's master – he ignored it himself. "What in the Devil's name are you…" he started.

"The Thin Ice," Thalia said, finally appearing to Harry's side, "it changed."

"Oh," Snape replied, instantly soothed. "Which one?"

"The one showing the next week."

"What did you see?"

"You."

"So that's how you knew I was here," Snape laughed.

"Wait," Harry said, interposing himself between his two teachers, "that means that Professor Snape is going to hurt you in someway?"

"No, of course not," Thalia replied after a short while. "Remember, the furthest you go in the future, the hardest the picture is hard to interpret. In this case Severus probably symbolizes something like my love, or my link with Voldemort, or my job at Hogwarts or something like it… It might be a false alert of some kind but I wouldn't think so. Whatever it is, I am going to be hurt, Severus too. And I believe you too Harry."

Thalia stopped talking, and Harry sunk into his mind. For God knew how long, Thalia had been using these mirrors to predict what danger Harry would be facing during this year. Harry suddenly felt relieved. Dumbledore, as always, had a plan to protect him against Voldemort. "So what should I do?" Snape asked, looking at Thalia, who was holding her head into her hands and rubbing her temples.

"Check every Thin Ice to see what's coming."

"Every one?"

"Every one, from the next five minutes to your entire life, I want to know everything that changed even so slightly since the last time you used them," the woman replied abruptly, still staring at her own palms.

The potions master got up and left the room at a quick pace. With a gesture of the hand, Miss Beauregard invited Harry to sit at the place his teacher had been sitting seconds earlier. He accepted the offer, and threw himself on the comfortable couch. The boy noticed that the cushion had already taken Snape's shape, indicating to Harry that his teacher had been waiting for Thalia for more than a while. He also realized that he was sitting next to a pile of homework Snape had probably been correcting. He quickly glimpsed at the names that adorned every sheet of parchment and quickly found his. Twisting his neck until the pain was barely bearable, he managed to find out his note. 10 out of 20. "Not so bad," Harry thought with a smile. Hermione would probably consider this result as absolutely shameful, but it was better than the usual 0 he had received for the past 4 years. Still grinning, he faced the worried woman that had sat next to him and simply said: "Thank you for asking Snape to be a bit nicer to me."

"What?" she replied, confused. "Oh right… Don't mention it," she added with a wink.

She then started observing him so intensely that the boy engaged another conversation in order to escape her glare. "You really think I'm in danger?"

"Yes. Severus doesn't seem to think so but I'm sure something's wrong. I got used to interpreting these, and every time the Thin Ice shows him to me, it's because there's something wrong."

"How come?"

"I tend to put myself in danger for him, and he does the same for me. So when we see each other, it's because we will face a situation in each we will have to mutually save each other. And very few people can cause a situation like this…"

"You think Voldemort will attack Hogwarts?"

"Not the Dark Lord, no, not himself. But I would say Death Eaters, very probably."

"How can you be so sure?" Harry asked.

"I've been interpreting other things than these Thin Ices. Dreams are also a certain form of warning, when you interpret them correctly."

Suddenly, without being able to control himself, Harry burst to laughter.

Though he did not hate Divination as fiercely as Hermione, he still thought it was absolutely ridiculous. He had stopped counting how much hours he had wasted trying to interpret ridiculous images splotched in his tea cups, or inventing fatalistic dreams in order to satisfy Miss Trewlaney's taste for predictions of misery and woe. Somehow, he knew that if Divination was Thalia's way of protecting Harry, he would face many false alerts. "Why are you laughing?" Thalia asked, intrigued. Suddenly, Harry stopped his salvo of giggles, that must have seen very insulting to Thalia. After all, she had been very serious when she had told him that she believed her dreams warned her of imminent dangers. "Well…" Harry answered, "it's simply that I have tried interpreting dreams with Miss Trewlaney, and…"

"Oooh!" Thalia laughed. "Well if you consider Divination as being what Miss Trewlaney teaches you, then you all all the reasons in the world to grin."

"How come?"

"Well Miss Trelawney thinks that a book is what is going to tell you your future. Real divination is far more private."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know… Say you dream of a black crow. In the christian symbolism, a black crow represents the Devil, so as any black animal. So therefore, any good interpretation book will say that you will soon be in very great danger."

"How is that bad?"

"Well it isn't really, since if you have no experience involving a black crow, then yes, the most common association with this animal is the Devil. But it isn't always true. In my case, for example, a black crow is associated with Severus. So if I dream of a black crow, it's a good sign. Only some people – like Miss Trewlaney – refuse to believe that one same symbol may have many different significations."

"I think I know what you mean," Harry suddenly said. "When I was in third grade, I kept… I kept seeing a black dog. Miss Trelawney said it was announcing my death."

"What do you think it means?"

"Well I would think it represents Sirius… family."

"Shit!" Harry heard Snape screaming as his teacher burst into the small room. The man looked panicked, and he was pacing around the couch Harry was sitting on, staring at the ground. "I saw… I saw you…" he said very rapidly, his eyes twitching in every direction.

"Anything else?"

"Yes…" Snape replied. "You, and Lucius."

"Please don't tell me," Thalia said, exasperated, her voice trembling, "that you think I'm cheating on…"

"No of course not," the man snapped, to Harry's relief.

He did not want to witness any domestic rows that night. "No, it's bigger than that. Malfoy… he's coming. He's coming here," stuttered Snape, his eyes revolving almost as quickly as Mad Eye's magicall eyeball.

"Do you know in how long?" Thalia asked, slowly encouraging the potions master to sit down.

"We have a week, if not two, before it happens. Eerrrmmm… did you check if you were clear for the month?"

"Yeah, it hasn't changed, that's why I thought of an attack. Why?"

Snape was now sitting on a couch almost identical to the one Harry was sitting on, and Thalia was at his sides, staring at his worried features. When Snape replied, her face faded to a worrying shade. "I saw mine… it showed you and Malfoy, again," he simply said.

"Oh, I'm way to tired to figure this out," Thalia quickly complained, before starting to speculate on the possible issues of the situation. "Well it obviously mean we are going to have to fight. You know they never harm me."

"Neither do they harm me. You think they know?"

"Of course not, or else you would have seen someone else than Lucius."

"Good. Good," Snape repeated a second time. "So there is a real attack on the castle. Potter," the teacher said, suddenly turning his head towards his student, who jerked upwards in surprise, "do you mind trying the Thin Ice?"

"Out of question !" Thalia shouted, taking both Snape and Harry by surprise. "You know he's too young to face those things! Like if he didn't have enough pressure on him already!"

"I don't want him to face the thinnest one, I just want to know if he will be in danger in the next month or so," Snape replied.

"The next month, end! I'm coming with you, and you have two shots, that's it!"

"Alright, I didn't intend on screwing his mind up anyways!" the man added, as if Harry were absent.

The two adults stepped up and entered a room that probably officiated as Thalia's _real_ office. It was filled with objects of all sorts, most of which Harry had not discovered yet. The only piece of furniture it contained was a desk, apparently the third one Thalia possessed. Only, this one was covered with a mount of random papers, more authentic than the surreal little piles of parchment that officiated on the two other desks Harry had previously seen. Finally, in the corner of the study were placed, as Miss Beauregard had announced earlier, about fifteen Thin ices, placed from the thickest to the thinnest. Harry stopped in front of it for a second, simply fascinated. It had to be as large as cellophane at the very most, but it still help itself up on the easel like the other ones. Only, he was quickly followed by Thalia, who walked up to him, grabbed him by the shoulders and placed him in front of the mirror she had brought in class. She whispered in his ear: "Believe me, you will regret it." Before Harry had time to understand if she was nicely warning him or plainly threatening him, he was told to blow on the Thin Ice, and he did so. Instantly, he saw the image of Lucius Malfoy. He turned himself to face his two teachers, who looked at him for a while, before Thalia asked Snape to contact Dumbledore. As the man left the room and walked toward what Harry understood was a chimney, Thalia asked him to move on to the second Thin Ice. "This one," she said, "will show you what lies ahead of you for the next month. Go on!" He activated the glass once again, and what he saw shocked him: reflected on the smooth surface of the glass, he saw Hogwarts' potions master.

He was about to walk away when he noticed that Thalia was still firmly holding him by the shoulders. He tried to wriggle himself out of her firm grip, but he was unable to. "She's defending her boyfriend," Harry heard echoing through his mind, "she knows he will harm me and she doesn't want me to tell anyone." He put his hand to his pocket to grab his wand, but before he had time to, he heard Thalia talk to him. "Calm down, Potter! You think you know what this picture is supposed to mean?" she said, her tone of voice strangely resembling Snape's. "You arrogant child, you don't know anything about these, and now you think you can understand one of the world's best Thin Ices? This is want happens when you put these artifacts in novice hands." Harry immediately stopped moving. She was right. He did not know any of the secrets of this form of magic. He looked at the square object once again. "But it's so obvious," he thought. "It is showing me Snape, only Snape. What could that possibly mean?"

"Look," Thalia replied, as if she had been reading his mind, "it's not showing you Snape at this moment, is it? It's showing him in the dungeons, with his potions… Look beyond what you see."

Before he had time to say anything for his defense, Harry heard Snape calling for Thalia. "So, what did he see?" the man screamed. "What was that sir?" he then asked. Harry understood he was communicating with the Headmaster. Miss Beauregard gave him a look filled with warning, then left the room. As he was about to follow her, his eyes fell in the last mirror of the row, the one that could show him the end of his own life.

He slowly walked towards it, scared that any sound would alert his teachers, or even worst, cause one of the mirrors surrounding him to shatter. When he arrived to the object that beheld the key to his destiny, he peeked by the half-open door. From his point of view, he could clearly distinguish Dumbledore's head floating in the midst of the flames that had appeared in the fireplace seconds ago. He could also see Miss Beauregard wrapped up in Snape's arms, both facing the hearth of the chimney. Turning his back on the scene, he closed the door behind him. Silence fell in the room, making it easier for Harry to overhear his own heart pounding in anticipation. He faced the thinnest of the Thin Ices and gently began blowing on it's surface. After a few moments, an image started to appear, causing Harry's heart to roar even louder. Finally, as Harry thought his chest was about to blow, the image fully appeared, and he found himself facing… his own reflection. Panic was starting to flow into his body when he came back to his senses. He shouldn't let this image affect him. He even had the courage to take a few steps forward in order to look, as Thalia had told him, beyond what he saw. Only, his face was all that was to be seen. It was only after a while that Harry started to notice a few differences between the face on the Thin Ice and his own. First of all, the portrait seemed darker, as opposite to Harry who was quite pale. Also, it looked older than the fifteen-year-old boy. It had a beginning of beard, and his traits were anchored deeper into his skin than Harry's. His hair was slightly longer too. Finally, a broken nose and a small scar near his inferior lip broke the general symmetry of his features. Harry was about to decide that this represented himself, simply older, when he noticed something wrong about the reflection's eyes. Not only were they cold, and filled with hate, but they seemed… different. As Harry was about to put the finger on this anomaly, Thalia walked into the room. The student had plenty of time to turn his back on the Thin Ice, which immediately returned to it's clear state, before the woman had time to set eyes on him. "Come on," Miss Beauregard said, unaware of Harry's discovery, "Albus wants to talk to you."

* * *

"How could you have been so stupid!" Hermione shouted. She and her two most loyal friends were sitting alone in the Gryffondor common room. It was about three in the morning and a pale, full moon was watching over the children from one of the windows. Ron and Hermione were both lying on couches in their pajamas, while Harry was sitting on the ground, fully clothed. The boy had only arrived in the common room two hours ago, and since then he had been narrating his hectic night to the two Gryffondors, who had been waiting for him since the end of classes. On a nearby coffee table lay a tray filled with bread and supper leftovers, so as a huge pitcher of pumpkin juice, courtesy of Fred and George Weasley. "What do you mean, stupid?" Harry replied, annoyed.

"Well you heard Miss Beauregard. A Thin ice can literally drive you mad!" the young girl replied.

"They asked him to use them," Ron said, defending Harry.

"Not the one that showed him the threat to his life!" Hermione retorted.

"Don't worry, I don't understand it anyways…" Harry mentioned.

Hermione suddenly appeared quite relieved. She sat back on the heavy cushions of the couch and closed her eyes. Harry took this physical response as an invitation to continue, and so he did. "Like Thalia said… It's probably some form of symbolism… I always thought Voldemort would be the one killing me…"

"Well now you know he'll never kill you," Ron pointed out, "you can fight against him any time."

"Of course not," Hermione said, her eyes still shut. "These images can change you know… Maybe this… person is only there temporarily."

"True," Harry said, to Hermione's satisfaction. "That's why I have to go back there and check again."

The two boys turned to face Hermione, awaiting a grandiose reaction of fury, but they were deceived. She remained on her back, and a slim smile had appeared under her closed eyelids. "Try all you want," she told Harry, "but it's never going to happen."

"Why, you want to stop him?" Ron asked.

"I won't. Thalia will. Snape too."

"No they won't," Harry laughed, "they don't even know I saw it. I'll simply sneak into her office and…"

"That's what I mean," Hermione interrupted. "They don't want to stop you from seeing the mirror, they want to stop you from entering her room. Think about it, those are her private apartments. Don't you think there's some security to prevent the students to enter them? And when do you think you'll enter them? At night? She's going to be in them, she lives there!"

Hermione's smile widened. Apparently, she was very satisfied with her expose. The two boys consulted themselves silently, making eye contact. "That is quite of a problem," Harry finally said. "But I'll find a way."

"Forget about the Thin Ice," Hermione replied, "and tell us what happened next."

"Yeah, Harry, what next?" Ron added, quite in vain.

"Well they brought me in Dumbledore's office, and I told him what I had seen. Then Snape and Thalia told them what they thought was going to happen, and the Headmaster agreed, so they called up all of the teachers and they created a sort of emergency plan."

"What kind of plan?" Ron inquired.

"Well they can't tell the students that an attack is going to be held on Hogwarts, obviously, or else there would be a wave of panic. And since they suspect Malfoy's father… Anyways the teachers think that Voldemort's servants will attack when we are all together, or else Thalia and Snape wouldn't have been warned by the Thin Ice."

"So what are they going to do?" Hermione urged Harry to continue.

"Well if we are in the Great Hall, they'll use, errmm, some sort of defense spell, called the… ermm, the Cage or something."

Both Ron and Hermione looked at the young boy quite incredulously. "Well the general effect is we'll be locked in the Great Hall…" Harry explained.

"And the ennemies will be locked out," Hermione finished.

"Yeah."

"It's called the Fool's Cage, just for you information," she said.

"Fool's Cage," Ron laughed as Harry nodded, "why such a name?"

"Well because it is quite stupid for a spell," Hermione admitted, finally looking at the two boys. "Of course, you're safe, but you can't exit the area that's under the charm. Nothing can enter it either, so you need to have food and necessaries with you… And it can't be stopped."

"You mean…" Ron started, unsure.

"That once it's cast, you can't do anything but wait for twelve entire hours."

"That is kind of stupid," Ron admitted.

"Yes, when you're not ready for it and you have the possibility to fight," Harry said. "But Dumbledore made sure we'll have enough food for everyone, and what can we do? Risk the lives of the students and attack the intruders? At least we'll all be safe."

Silence fell upon the small group. Hermione had closed her eyes again, and the two boys could tell that Morpheus was calling her into his arms. Harry had to admit he was quite sleepy too. He had spent the last two hours talking, and the eight previous preparing a strategy to fight Lord Voldemort. He had also discovered the face of his future killer. Of course, he was jumping to conclusions saying that this very man would kill him, but he was unable to face the other option: the option that maybe this man represent Harry himself, and that the Thin Ice indicated to the boy that he would end up destructing himself. He shrugged and chased this idea from his already troubled mind. "So that's it," he said, with no other objective than to wake up his two friends. They both jerked upwards and forced themselves to open their tired eyes. "Oh I'm so sorry Harry," Hermione said," it's just… We've been waiting here for hours and we're kind of sleepy."

"Oh it's alright," Harry replied, "you can go to bed if you want to, I'll just stay here two minutes or so…"

As if answering a magical command, Ron got up and slowly made his way to his dorm, muttering a weak "Good night". Hermione laughed and got up, but as she was about to leave, she stopped and turned to look her friend in the eye. "I just wanted to say," she told him, "that at least now you know Miss Beauregard and Professor Snape are doing all their possible to save your life. Even… even if you sometimes think they hate you… they would do all their possible to save your life and protect you from Death Eaters."

"I know… It's a bit funny actually," he replied. "They spent the entire night trying to find a way to save my life, but you should have seen their faces when Dumbledore asked one of them to escort me back to the common room."

"What'd they do?" Hermione asked, giggling.

"They argued about who should do it, and for who it would be less hard to return to the Gryffondor tower with Potter's son."

"I'd say Snape should have done it."

"Yeah I thought so too… We were about to leave when Dumbledore said that Professor MacGonagall would bring me back here, and that instead of doing so, Snape could go back to _his_ apartements, in the dungeons."

They both laughed, and Harry spoke. "At least he found a suddle way of telling them he disapproved of sleepovers. Like they are going to listen to him anyways…" On this comment, Hermione bade Harry good night and started climbing the stairs that led to the girl's dorm. Harry, on the other hand, stayed seated for a little while, staring at the flames dancing in the fireplace and helping himself to the food that layed on the small coffee table that had been in this room for God knows how long. It was only when he realised it was already four in the morning that the boy got up and went to his bed. Within seconds, he was sleeping.


	7. Chapter 7

"Harry! If I see you even brush my notes with the very tip of your fingers, I will poke my quill into your eyeballs!" Hermione shouted, breaking the silence that had installed in the common room and making more than a few students jerk in surprise. Gently smiling at the heads that were turning towards her, she angrily picked up the notes that were lying on the ground, only inches away from Harry and Ron. That Wednesday night, it had been the Gryffondor's turn to receive a visit from Thalia, and as usual, Hermione had taken out all of her precious parchments and asked her to revise them. During the first months, the teacher had read and reviewed every word written by Hermione, but after a few weeks, she had become aware that Hermione's notes were absolutely perfect, and that it was ridiculous for her to waste her time looking for nonexistent errors they might contain. Sadly, Hermione was not as easily convinced, and this time, as always, she had patiently waited for her turn to come to hand the scrolls she tightly held, a nervous look on her face. Miss Beauregard was about to say something, but after a few seconds of hesitation she simply closed her mouth and started quickly browsing through the papers she held in had: she had abandoned arguing with the student as rapidly as she had stopped reading her texts. Harry saw her eyes shifting form a word to another, only pausing themselves about three seconds on each little card Hermione had crafted in order to have each and every one of her note sheets identical. Finally, she sighed and gave the notes back to their owner. "Miss Granger, she said, to be quite honest I seriously contemplated the idea of giving out copies of your own notes to students that don't understand the subject." These words had no purpose but to cheer Hermione up, and they succeeded. She therefore let herself fall into a particularly gigantic couch and allowed herself a little bit of light reading, while all the other students were still gathered around their teacher.

Usually Thalia's visits did not mobilize the entire common room, but this day was different: it was already the night before the last DADA class before Christmas, and therefore the night before the particularly tedious exam Thalia had promised them. Each and every Gryffondor student had grabbed their notes and ran down to see Thalia, who was overwhelmed by all the work, but who seemed to be prepared for it. After all, it was not hard to guess that students generally kept work for the last minute. The true surprise of the evening came at the very instant Hermione sat down, when all the students heard a little knock coming from outside the common room. They looked at each other, puzzled. All the other Gryffondor students were either outside the Gryffondor Tower or in their own dorms. The fifth year students had clearly demonstrated that they would do all their possible to keep the common room as silent as grave, and they had done so. Only the Weasley twins had insisted on having their monthly chit-chat with Thalia. Luckily enough for Harry and his friends, they abandoned after five minutes and more or less a hundred annoyed "Shh!" they received from the students. In that case, the knock was quite surprising. It was only when Thalia got up and swung open the door that guarded the entry to the Gryffondor Tower that they understood. Ten Hufflepuff students were standing in the shadow of the Fat Lady's portrait, an embarrassed look on their faces. They were all clutching small pieces of parchment, what Harry guessed had to be their DADA notes. One of the students, which Harry did not recognize from his point of view, apologetically whispered something to Thalia, who turned their back on them and re-entered the Gryffondor common room. "Miss Hanna Abbott," she said, "and her fellow Hufflepuffs, would like to know if they could break a few antique Hogwarts rules and set foot into your common room in order to prepare for their exam, tomorrow."

"Antique rules?" Seamus asked.

"Well technically, only Gryffondor's, and teachers of course," she added, "can enter the Gryffondor Tower."

"Really?" Ron asked, surprised.

The kids had never known that such a rule existed, and they thought that students stayed in their own common rooms only because of their will to do so. Harry realized at that moment that the rule, even though students were unaware of it's existence, had almost never been broken in all his time spent in this school. "Probably the sole unbroken rule of all Hogwarts," he thought. Strangely, he had never felt the need to go meet up with his – quite few, he had to admit – Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw friends outside of their common classes. He had always excused this by saying that the Sorting Hat had placed him with most of his friends, since they all had common qualities, and therefore were simply bound to fraternize. It was only then that it appeared clearly to him: the only reason he had Gryffondor friends was because he was a Gryffondor. Being a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff, he could have made himself as many faithful friends. He looked at Hermione and Ron, who were encouraging the newly arrived Hufflepuffs to make themselves comfortable. It was the Sorting Hat that made sure they were friends. If, as he had feared, the Sorting Hat would have sent him in Slytherin, they wouldn't even dare to approach him. He sighed and went back to his notes.

Only seconds later, Ron and Hermione were at his side, unaware of Harry's unsound thoughts. "First time I see a teacher so happy to break rules," Ron said with a smile, pointing at Thalia. She was helping two Hufflepuffs to understand the origins of Devil's Fog, but thought the subject of her conversation was rather grim, her face was illuminated with a huge smile. In only a minute, she had passed from an exhausted teacher to a spruce young woman spreading joy around her. "It probably reminds her of her old days of killing and breaking the law," said a bitter Hermione.

"No," replied Harry, standing up for his teacher.

"Why else would she be so happy of breaking the rules?" Hermions asked, still as sullen as before.

"She's happy to see we're mixing up and leaving the House's behind. You remember our first class? She told us that she wanted us and the Slytherin's to blend in as one group… She's happy yo see that we are generous enough to let the Hufflepuff's take some of our time with her."

"She's happy to see Gryffondor's are actually as good as they say," Ron added.

Hermione finaly smiled, and admitted Harry was probably right. "Still," she said, "it sickens me…"

"What does?" Ron asked.

"Her way of exposing her Dark Mark as if she was proud of it," Hermione said, darting a disgusted look on the tattoo adorning Thalia's forearm.

Their teacher was dressed for the occasion as a muggle, wearing a sleeveless shirt that clearly exposed the black design printed on her skin. The two boys looked at her, them at themselves. They both found Hermione was being a little bit harsh on Miss Beauregard. "Well she can't wear long sleeves her entire life…" Ron objected.

"No," Hermione replied, "I don't care about the Dark Mark itself… I mean her way of presenting her past as something cool. You know, look at me, I was a Death Eater… She talks about her own friends and her old way of life as if they were normal, but anyone in their right mind would consider these things disgraceful."

"I guess it's her way of living with it…"

"No, it's her way of convincing us that she was right."

"Hermione you're exagerating, she couldn't…"

"Yes she could"! Hermione yelled at Harry, tears falling out of her eyes. "I don't see why people appreciate her when she spent entire years trying to kill people because they didn't have the luck to come to life in an entirely pure-blood family."

The two boys immediately stopped arguing. They knew Hermione was simply upset. Muggle-born, she was insulted anytime someone would dare demeaning her because of that. The two boys simply took her into their arms and let her gently sob on their shoulders. Apparently Thalia hadn't discovered she was the center of their conversation, as she remained seated, helping other students. It seemed almost impossible that she could have missed Hermione's cry, and Harry thought she may have understood more than they thought she had, but in either case, he was thankful that she stayed away. Turning back to Hermione, who had stopped crying, he asked: "So why don't you explain to us the origins of Dementors?"

* * *

There was only half an hour left to Thalia's visit when the students heard another dull knock coming from the common room entrance. "I told you Ernie didn't understand a single word you told him!" Seamus shouted, causing general hilarity.

"Maybe it's the Ravenclaw's now," Hermione suggested.

She had spent the last half-hour reciting a summary of the entire program, and it had made her forget all about Thalia and Death Eaters. "I wouldn't think so… I was in their common room last Wednesday, so they had time to review almost everything… Anyways, our reunions usually last about five minutes," Thalia giggled. "Unlike, erm, certain students, they always take the time to prepare their notes in advance." The Gryffondor's laughed at this half-hidden reproach, until Thalia announced : "Should I go get them myself?" Nobody answered, and she interpreted their silence as a form of approval. She entered the small tunnel that led to the hole situated behind the Fat Lady's portrait, and opened the door. All the students ceased their conversations and listened intensely. "Why hello!" Miss Beauregard said.

"Hello miss," a voice they did not recognize answered. "Erm… We were in the library studying when we realized we had a few questions for you… Well, five actually... We know you're supposed to be with the Gryffondor's tonight, but we wondered if you could give us a minute or two…"

"Sure I can," she replied, "why don't you come in?"

"Ermm… In the common room? Are we even allowed to?"

"No. But the Hufflepuffs have without a problem, and I'm also inviting you."

"I… I really don't think it's a good idea."

Hermione whispered to Harry: "Ravenclaws… they are so afraid to break the rules!" Harry stopped himself from reminding Hermione that she had once been as cautious, and instead went back to eavesdropping his teacher's conversation. Thalia, it had seemed, had convinced the students of entering. Only, as Harry caught a sight of their green robes, he stood up, along with a few other students. Thalia was escorted in their common room by three Slytherin students. Harry had rarely seen them before: they were in most of his classes, but they usually stayed silent. Nevertheless, simply couldn't imagine these students daring to enter his territory. He could only agree with Dean as he clearly stated: "No!"

"What?" Thalia asked, outraged.

"They can't come here."

"How come?" she asked, challenging him with her cold eyes.

"Because they are Slytherins. They're not allowed to be here."

"Hufflepuffs neither weren't allowed to be here. You didn't mind."

"It's not the same."

Their teacher stood still for a while, starring at Dean. Finally, she emitted a low, unfathomable "Aaahh…" . After a while, she continued. "I see," she said with a disgusted voice. "Slytherins. Enemies. Kids unworthy of receiving a proper education because a stupid hat didn't shout out the good name."

"It's just…" Harry started protesting, then stopped.

"No, don't stop yourself, Potter. I'm dying to hear what's on your clever little mind."

Thalia was angry, and her tone of voice and sarcastic expressions were now approaching Snape's. "Well," Harry tried explaining, "they wouldn't have let _us_ in either."

"Well not necessarily. If these students had the courage to come up here maybe it's because they don't really mind what House you're in."

The students in question seemed about to faint. "And do you really want me to believe that this is the only reason you're rejecting them?" Thalia continued, keeping the entire common room trapped in a terrorizing silence. "So this is what Dumbledore calls Wizard Solidarity. To be quite honest, if you can't even get together to study, how does he expect you to get together to fight Voldemort."

"They won't fight against You-Know-Who, they fight for him!" Dean shouted.

"Oh is it so? I don't see anything on their forearms," Thalia replied.

"Well not yet… Their parents…" Harry objected.

"Harry can you tell me the name of one of these students?"

Harry racked his own brain at the research of a name, but he was unable to find one. He knew the girl's name started with M, or maybe S… Thalia quickly realized he was unable to answer, and carried on. "So you can't tell me their names, but you can tell me what their parents do at night?"

"Well they are Slytherins. They are bound to end up being Death Eaters!" Seamus continued.

"I beg you pardon?"

"You heard me! All Slytherins are going to become Death Eaters, just like you!"

"You should know, my dear friend, that I wasted seven years of my life wearing the Gryffondor insignia. Seven years were what it took me to realize that your House is only a lie."

"What…" Harry started.

"If you are to believe your motto, you students should be brave, kind and courageous… This is what you call courage and honor? Refusing to help students in need? You think you are oh-so-perfect in every way… But to be honest I have never seen such a gang of narrow-minded cowards. It's easy fighting evil when you only fight the evil you want to."

On that assasin remark, she left the common room, followed by the three Slytherin students, who were litterally running out into the corridors. Harry looked at Ron, who was simply astonished, and at Hermione, who was about to burst into tears again. Though he could decrypt every one's emotions, he could not understand his. On one hand, we wanted to shout at Thalia and tell her that she was entirely wrong, but on the other hand, he knew she was partly right. Hermione's words were echoing into his mind, blending in with Miss Beauregard's reprimand. " …she spent half her life trying to kill people because they didn't have the luck to come to life in an entirely pure-blood familly," his friend had said. The sentence strangely ressembled Thalia's: "Kids unworthy or receiving a proper education because a stupid hat didn't shout out the good name." It seemed that all wizards had their way of judging other wizards. By a last name, or by the colour of a insignia… He couldn't stop himself from letting a sad smile show on his face. Maybe he was judging the three Slytherin students too harshly. He got up, abandoning his friends without a word. He had been within a hair's breadth of entering the Slytherin house. Everybody would have thought he was a future Death Eater. As he climbed the stairs leading to his dorm, he realised he could never sleep with all these thoughts swirmming in his head. He looked at his watch: thought it was dark outside, it was still rather early. Rummaging through his trunk, he quickly found what he was looking for: his invisibility cloak.


	8. Chapter 8

_I'd simply like to start by saying sorry for my pitiful writing and for my strange punctuation: I still use the french _«» _rather than the english " "_, _simply because i started the story that way... If it bothers too many people, I'll simply change it. Also, thank you so much for reading, and please keep reviewing!!!_

_(I've kept the original comment though I've changed the quotation system simply because I still apologize for my pitiful autograph.)_

Harry wasn't sure what he was looking for in the dark corridors of the castle. It was only a few minutes past the student curfew but still, the hallways were empty. The boy had to admit Wednesday nights were rarely the scene of mind-blowing parties. Nevertheless, he expected to find some sort of entertainment within the castle walls. He sighed. Even Peeves was nowhere to be seen. The young man stared at his wristwatch until his eyes finally managed to distinguish the time in the obscurity. Ten past ten. He silently walked up to a window and let his eyes wander on the school grounds. The surface of the lake was still, and in the dead of the night, it's immobility reminded Harry of Muggle parking lots. He felt as if thought he was watching a picture of the huge yard. The surrounding darkness was only broken by one little light, flickering in the midst of the park. Harry quickly recognized the small circular house that Hagrid considered home. Though his entire head was filled with grim thoughts, he smiled. His friend was probably still awake, taking care of one of the strange, deadly creatures he had recently adopted. Suddenly, a small clang reached the boy's ears. He turned his head in time to see Snape quickly marching down the corridor, an old, creaking lantern swinging in his hand. As soon as the teacher reached the end of the corridor and left Harry's sight, an idea crept into his mind. If Snape was assigned to patrolling the corridors and Thalia was out helping the Slytherin students, then the Thin Ices were probably free to visit. He began heading to the DADA class, but as he passed by another window, he turned back and walked towards the school exit. He knew his head was already packed with concerns of all sorts, and that adding any other worries to it would certainly be a form of mental suicide. Therefore, he returned to his original plan: let Hagrid's warm and hearty welcome blow his troubles away.

As he silently approached the teacher's cottage, the Gryffondor caught a sight of the two silhouettes cut out in the small, lighted windows. Apparently, someone else had thought of visiting Hagrid before Harry. That someone's else identity became clear as Harry heard two glasses loudly hitting something made of wood – probably Hagrid's table – and a voice he recognized too well. "You know what I mean," Thalia said. "Argh, a giant, run away! He can't possibly be good, can't he?"

"It's not like that…" Hagrid mumbled in answer.

"Oh please Rubeus, you know as well as me that you were fired because of the few feet you had, well still have, more than the others."

"It's not only that, I mean, Aragog …"

"Stop defending them Hagrid! You told me everything, the letters of indignation coming from the parents who thought that no monsters shouldn't be allowed in Hogwarts. Monsters… They sicken me."

As Harry perceived the clinging of a bottle hitting a glass, he took the risk of peeking into a window. Thalia was sitting on an over-sized chair, Fangs's head on her lap. Hagrid was facing her, and tears were filling up his eyes. Harry knew he hated to bring his years in Hogwarts back to memory, and it seemed that Thalia also understood the pain he was feeling, as she quickly changed the subject, deposing a half-empty bottle of Fire Whiskey on the table. "Well anyways," she said, "we were different. For that you go kicked out, and for that I got raped."

"Well you chose to be different," Hagrid objected.

"I'm not talking about the Dark Mark. I understand people that hate me because of that. I hate myself because of that," Thalia replied, waving a lazy hand into the air.

"You mean… in school?"

"Yes I mean in school! I mean that I was a Gryffondor who had Slytherin friends, and that because of that, everybody thought I would be a Death Eater," Thalia said, gulping down the content of the glass she held in hand.

"Well you are a Death Eater," the giant continued.

"Only because they pushed me to it. I'm telling you, they pushed me to it…"

As Harry was about to return to the Gryffondor common room, he heard footsteps coming towards him. By the time he dove under his Invisibility Cloak, Hogwart's headmaster was knocking on the thick wooden door that guarded the entrance to Hagrid's sanctuary. Harry held his breath. During the previous years, Dumbledore had demonstrated more than once that he could see through Harry's magical cloak, and the student knew that now was not the time to be caught out of bed. He prayed for the man to quickly enter the log cabin, but as hard as Harry prayed, nothing happened. Dumbledore was still standing in front of the door, and the two drunken teachers were pursuing their conversation. Hagrid was vigorously shaking his head from left to right as Thalia nodded, repeating the word "Yes" over and over again. Finally, she explained herself. "Yes, it was their fault," she said. "I was a frustrated young woman who thought that all beauty, nobility and courage was simple bullshit, and my only friends had all clearly demonstrated their intentions into joining Voldemort's ranks, and what did they do? They let me go into the wild, thinking I would be fine. So yes, this," she added, pointing her forearm, "is their fault. And you would have had all the reasons of joining us too – they let you down. You were on their side and they let you down, rejecting you, humiliating you."

"But Dumbledore took me under his wing."

"Well I didn't have that luck, did I?" Thalia replied, bitterly.

Before she had time to add anything on his account, Dumbledore swung the door open and stepped into the log cabin.

"Why, there you are Miss Beauregard," he said with a fatherly smile, "I've been looking all around the school grounds for you."

"Of course, seeing we really did all our possible to hide, with the lights on at this hour," Thalia said.

"Not as drunk as you want me to think, I see," Dumbledore added with a wink.

"You know it takes more to knock me out, Albus."

At that moment, Hagrid realized the headmaster had entered his house, as he tried standing up, mumbling some form of welcome. Sadly, he fell back on his chair seconds later, where he simply abandoned his attempts of greeting the man in question. "Third bottle," Thalia explained. Dumbledore nodded and with a flicker of his wand filled the fire place with roaring flames. He then magically brought an old tin kettle in the chimney. Within a minute, a steaming cup of coffee was placed before Hagrid, who was already half asleep on the table. "Now that this is taken care of," Dumbledore tokd Thalia, "would you do me the pleasure of accompanying me back to the castle, my sight is quite pitiful nowadays."

"You promote division."

"I'm sorry?" the old man asked, walking away from the door he had just opened.

"The Four Houses. They divide the students, make them enemies as they are just kids."

"We've already went over this Thalia, this system is as old as the school itself…"

"So is the obsession over pure-bloods you fight with such ardor."

Dumbledore, rather than replying, simply closed the door behind him, preventing Harry for observing half the scene. He still managed to see the man sit down beside the teacher and take a small sip from Hagrid's cup of coffee. "I know you are upset," he said, "but we can't change the entire school over a night." He took a small pause, then resumed. "Severus was really worried you know."

"Very probably," Thalia said, indifferent.

"Well if he can't get you back in Hogwarts," Dumbledore laughed, "I sure can't."

"You could convince me to go back if I knew I could actually see him, not whisper him goodnight and then leave until I see him next morning."

"I simply stated the rules, you can't stay in each other's apartments…"

"Even if you let us change rooms… Strangely, every time I have free time, he is assigned to patrolling the corridors…"

"Well it's simply…" the man protested.

"And vice versa," Thalia finished.

"Well in about ten minutes, you'll both be free. And I think the headmaster will be sleeping. He's not getting any younger you know. But just before you throw yourself in the dungeons, simply remember that if you want this to stay secret, you'll have to may far more cautious than this."

Harry didn't hear Thalia's answer as at that very moment, he secured the cloak around his frozen stiff body and ran towards the Main Entrance, slipping regularly on the thick layer of ice that had formed itself over the entire grounds. If this frozen layer had not prevented Harry's footsteps from imprinting themselves in white snow, the boy would have pulverized it with his wand at once. Finally, he reached the massive door that guarded the entrance to the school, which was open, as usual. Cautiously avoiding to make any sound prone to echoing on the marble staircase, he rushed towards the DADA classroom. Thalia and Snape in the dungeons, the way to the Thin Ice was safe.

***

Harry arrived in the empty classroom out of breath. Magically locking the door behind him, he allowed himself a few minutes of rest. The boy carefully sat on the desk facing the small wooden door at the back of the class, looking for a way to penetrate it. He knew that a simple _Alohomara_ would probably break through it, but that was not the problem. He had to find a way into Thalia's apartments, he had to get passed the steel door he had seen earlier without the little silver key Thalia had used. For a second, he regretted not bringing Hermione with him on this nocturn walk. When his breath came back to a normal rhythm, he stood up and marched towards the door. He rapidly drew his wand and by the time he had pronounced half the magic formula he had in head, the door swung open. Filled with confidence, the boy entered the narrow room. He then turned himself towards the large metal door. It was entirely composed of rough steel, and strange symbols were engraved on it's surface. Asymmetrical circles and volutes that ressembled plumes of smoke covered the entire door. Harry gently brushed the cold steel when he suddenly heard a loud bang coming from behind him. He quickly executed a half turn, but he was too late to see what had caused that sound. All he could discern in the obscurity was that the wooden door had shut itself by accident. The teenager let out a helpless nervous laugh. He gave the door a litlle push, but it wouldn't budge. He directed his wand at the door knob and shouted, louder than he would have wished, the same formula as before. The flash of light skipped of the old handle and flew a few inches over his head, finally crashing into the pile of records occupying half the office. A few of them slided slowly down the slope of albums, but the general untidyness of the pile remained unchanged. Thought it was a good news, Harry barely noticed it. His entire mind was now focused on an escape plan. He was ready to tear the heavy stone walls apart if that could permit him to run away from this dreadfull place. Thalia would obviously find out sooner or later that he was the student responsible of the wreck and she would chase him down like she did Malfoy, only she would have to do it in daylight, under Dumbledore's supervision. On the other hand, if she found him there, under the secrecy of the night, God only knows what ancient spell would appear into her mind.


	9. Chapter 9

_New chapter, now with English dialogs! Hurray! Finally understood how they are supposed to work :)_

_Also, please take time to review, any little comment will do._ _You never know how your opinion can change a text..._

As Harry articulated this thought, a small clicking sound hit his ears. The boy quickly took a few steps backwards and bashed into Thalia's desk, which moved back more than a few inches. The room was then filled with silence, and Harry's reflexes took over. He turned around to observe the desk and make sure it had not moved to much, but when he managed to turn his back to the door, he simply froze. He felt as though an insane drummer was using his heart as an instrument. His hands were trembling as they searched for a grip on the small chair besides him. He took a few deep breaths until the jolts that had taken possession of his body ceased. When he finally managed to stand still and hold himself up without support, he let go of the furniture's back rest. He took another step back, voluntarily this time, and within seconds he felt a cool wand being pressed against his neck, it's sharp tip digging in his flesh. He was about to reach for his own wand when the weapon placed against his body turned slightly, inflicting more pain to the student. As Harry felt warm blood leaking down on his school uniform, he realized that his attacker was not using a magical wand but a common blade. Once again shivers took control the boy's body. His trembling knees were about to give out when his attacker raised the knife. The bloodcurdling pain that was caused by the contact with the blade immediately stopped, and the pain remaining in his body became dull. Harry let air fill his lungs again, but still avoided making any sound. Though he could not feel it, he knew the blade was still close to his neck. "What is it with Potters and the disrespect of other's privacy?" a feminine voice asked. The Gryffondor closed his eyes and kept them shut. He understood that the question he had been asked was rhetorical, but still, he had to reply. Something was triggering his curiosity, and even the threat that lay in his life could not stop him from asking his teacher: "A blade?"

"Too crude for Mister Potter?"

Harry knew he had made a mistake as he felt the sharp knife piercing his skin again. "As opposite to a certain magic spell, these do not leave any traces… And they never fail," Harry heard. He let out a small gasp, but soon enough the blade was taken away, for good. Harry opened his eyes and turned to face his teacher. She was firmly grasping her weapon, eyes wide with what Harry guessed was shock. She was wildly staring at him, muttering something the boy could not hear. A small line of light coming from the DADA classroom was reflected on the blade of the knife, making the crimson stain on it shine as boldly as fire. Harry didn't know what to do. Miss Beauregard was obviously out of her mind. She was still intensely gazing at him, but she had ended her whispers. As Harry saw her fingers tightly wrapped around the knife, he reached into his pocket for his wand. After a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, he realized that Thalia didn't intend on moving. Scared that any attempt of escaping might rekindle her wrath, he slowly approached her and gently but strongly pulled the knife out of her hand. He placed the weapon on her desk and as he was about to leave, life seemed to flow into the woman's body. "Hold on a second," she said as Harry reached the wooden door behind her. He felt an irresistible envy to run pounding in his heart, but instead chose to walk back into his teacher's office. As he took place on a small chair as he was asked to, he saw Thalia close the door and trap him, once again, inside her office.

"First of all, Thalia said, sitting on her desk, I'm sorry for the knife." Though the guilty look on her face seemed credible, Harry was not ready to forgive her for making him live such a traumatizing experience. He had faced death more times than he could count, but it was the first time he felt danger threatening him in such a raw way. He nevertheless nodded when she asked him the permission to take her weapon back. He deeply frowned as he watched her insert it in some sort of pouch she wore at her waist, under her shirt. "You always carry it with you?" Harry asked, his voice filled with reproach.

"Some habits you never lose," she answered with an apologetic grin.

"I can see that…"

"Harry, this saved my life more times than my wand has," she said rather harshly. "Of all students here, I thought you would be in the best situation to understand that life is cruel and that you always have to be prepared."

"Still…"

Harry withdrew himself in a grumpy silence. It was only when the blood on his neck became too much to deal with on his own that he addressed Miss Beauregard again. "Could you help me with this?" he asked, trying to contain the gushing blood between his fingers.

"Oh yes, I'm so sorry I forgot!" Thalia exclaimed, exiting the daydream she had entered.

She approached him and sucked the liquid right off his skin with her wand. "Don't worry, wounds around your head always bleed a lot for nothing. It's barely a scratch… It'll heal fast, it's a clean cut…"

She went back to her place and observed Harry's grim expression. Suddenly, without warning, she burst. "Keep giving me that angry look and I'll take the blade out again! I thought you were a smart guy, but apparently you're not clever enough to understand that your father has scarred me for life. What he has done to me has traumatized me more than you seem to believe. He didn't only fuck up my life, he messed up my entire head. When you put both of us in situations that remind me of him, you toy with my mind in some sadistic way. If you find it funny to surprise me at night in my private apartments, then deal with the consequences. You want to make me lose my mid, fine, but don't start complaining when I actually lose it." She took a small pause, then added: "You know I used to be a Death Eater, and though I don't share their ideology anymore, I still share their reflexes. So when it comes down to defending myself, I thought you'd understand what techniques I used." Harry could not believe it. After attacking with his a knife, his teacher had the boldness to place the blame on him. "That doesn't excuse this attack!"

"Well you were looking for trouble coming all the way down here simply to remind me the worst night of my night! I warned you to stay away…"

"That's not why I'm here!" Harry interrupted, frustrated.

"Then why are you here?!"

Immediately, the boy regretted his words. "I, erm, I wanted to…"

"Ohh…" Thalia said. "The Thin Ice?"

Harry searched for an excuse in every corner of his brain, but finally had to admit the truth. "And you were stupid enough to think I wouldn't be in my own apartments at night?"

"No I didn't," Harry instantly replied, insulted.

"And how is that?"Thalia asked, bending forward in order to look straight into his eyes.

The boy cursed himself for falling into such a childish trap. After a while, he told Thalia almost everything, simply omitting that he had already used the most powerful Thin Ice in her very presence. When he finished his short narrative, she simply nodded. "Poor thing, you left a second too early. Dumbledore was hoping I'd believe him when he said Severus finished in an hour instead of in three… Well, two and a half now."

Harry looked at his watch and saw it was already eleven thirty. All the emotions of the evening seemed to fall on his shoulders in a second, and suddenly tiredness invaded his heavy limbs. His teacher seemed to remark that change of posture and immediately stated: " I'll be ready to bring you back to your common room the second you tell me truth."

"What?"

"You really want to make me believe that you thought of seeing the Thin Ice just like that, out of the blue?"

Harry was about to find a perfectly logical explanation to this anomaly when Thalia said: "Remember my boyfriend is the man known throughout England for the quality of his Veritaserums."

"I saw it once… last week, when you left me alone in the room with all the mirrors… when I used the two other ones," Harry growled.

"What did I say about Veritaserum?"

"I'm not lying!" Harry screamed.

"Alright, just checking…" Thalia said, rolling her eyes. "You've already lied to me half a dozen times, so I do have a good reason for doing so…"

Harry chose not to answer to what he considered an unfair accusation, and simply remained silent. His eyelids shut them without Harry realizing, and soon he was drowsing on the uncomfortable chair. "So what did you see?" Thalia suddenly asked, pulling Harry out of his sleepiness.

"Erm, me, I guess…"

"It was like you were looking at yourself in a mirror?"

"No… no, actually," Harry replied, frowning at the thought of this fact. "Actually it was like, like a tougher version of me… Like if I was staring at myself, only older…"

"Harry that's not possible. Thin Ices can't show us the future."

The student's jaw dropped. "Well then, he said, I, I just can't say…"

"It's alright Harry, I think I know what you saw…"

"Really?"

"Well, maybe… Only I have to be sure before I tell you anything."

"Wait… You're going to tell me what's going to kill me?"

"Well of course."

"Isn't that… isn't that bad?" Harry said, finding it suddenly painful to swallow the saliva that had filled his mouth.

"I think you've already faced enough in your life to face this… Plus, if I'm right, I won't be telling you anything new."

"Wow… thanks," Harry murmured.

"No problem. But I'm also doing this at the condition that you don't try to see it again."

Harry nodded, and this time he was sure he would respect his promise. The image he had seen a week ago had truly frightened him, and he was already reluctant to face it again. Nevertheless he followed Thalia into her apartments and, placing himself in front of it, he gently blew on the thinnest piece of glass. Only this time, as the second the man appeared on the mirror surface, he moved back and let Thalia observe it. After only a few seconds, she said: "It's alright. You can break eye contact now." Harry did as he was told, and the dreadful image vanished. "So," the boy started…

"Harry," Thalia interrupted him, "the last time you saw him, were was he?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"A week ago, did you see where the man was, who he was with?"

"Ermm… no, actually," Harry answered, thinking. "I only saw his face, it… it occupied the entire place."

"Alright."

Harry thought he saw a tear running down Thalia's cheek, but when she turned to face him, she seemed normal. "Funny thing, these Thin Ices…" she simply stated.

"How come?"

"Oh nothing, "she simply said, smiling at him. "Well, I was right, so I'm only delivering second-hand news. You will die because you are the Chosen One."

"The Chosen One?"

"Well, there… there is a prophecy that talks about you Harry, and that says that the Dark Lord will mark someone as his equal and that it will be this person – in this case, you – that will have to kill him."

"And how will that cause my death?"

"Well… I'm not sure Dumbledore would want me to tell you this."

"I'm not sure Dumbledore would want you interpreting these messages for me."

"Alright then," she said with a sad smile. "There is a passage of this prophecy that states that, how does it go again… neither one can die while the other lives… or something like that. And therefore, you will probably die trying to kill Voldemort."

The boy sat on the only chair placed in the room and let this information dig a way through his brain. He would have to die in order to kill He Who Must Not Be Named. The shock of this discovery worn off, Harry realized that this information was quite obvious. He knew that he would have to kill Voldemort himself, and that such a task would probably take his life. He tilted his head upwards in order to stare at Thalia. "That's it?" he asked, surprised.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there are more obvious ways of telling me I will die because of Voldemort… Showing me Voldemort, for instance."

"Oh, but Harry, these mirrors are not meant to be practical," she laughed at the boy's astonishment. "Like I said, they have strange behaviors…"

"Behaviors? You talk as if they were alive!"

"They _are_ alive, Harry."

The boy looked at her with a puzzled expression on his features. "I am a green witch, Harry," she explained. "Do you know what we are?" The boy shook his head from left to right, and his teacher carried on. "Well," she said, "did you ever wonder how the magic was transmitted from a wizard to another before there was a ministry of magic, and schools such as Hogwarts, or even wand manufacturers?" The boy had to admit that he had never thought that possible. In his head, the magical world had always been as it was now. "Then you never paid attention to Professor Bins' class, did you? Oh, it's alright," she reassured him as he was about to say something for his defense, "I didn't like him much either. What I'm going to say doesn't appear anywhere in his class, anyways. Well before the magical world had a structure, wizards taught themselves the use of magic. Since every family had a different way of teaching their kind how to use magic, they were different, species, lets say, of wizards, who all learned spells and potions from a different point of view."

"What about muggle-borns?"

"Well when a family of wizards spotted a muggle-born magician in their community, they usually kidnapped them and raised them as their own. It's not as terrible as it may seem," she added at the sight of Harry's disgusted face." Most children would have been put to death by their parents anyways. Everyone knows the faith reserved to magicians in Europe."

"Anyways," she continued, "most wizards have forgotten of what branch they are issued, but not me. My family was very proud of it's origins and I was taught magic the exact same way my ancestors were."

"Didn't you come to Hogwarts?"

"Yes, but my mother made sure I knew all about Nature's magic."

"Nature?"

"Yes. Green witches are the ones who learned magic in the most natural way. We are the ones who found the properties of most plants and every spell we ever created was linked with what is outdoors, in the wild. This extra knowledge I was taught helps me to understand magic. Because of what my family transmitted me, I know that everything we make using any natural ingredient is alive."

"So when we drink potions…"

"We are drinking life. It's not so surprising. If you bite a plant, you are eating life, so if you drink a mixture of plants, it should be the same no?"

"What else do you know about magic," Harry asked, question marks shining in his eyes.

"Well," Thalia laughed, "too much to explain in a single night."

"Alright… do you know what branch I'm issued from?"

"Harry the only ancestor I know you have is our father, so I am tempted to say your from the family of ..."

"…"

"I'm sorry that was uncalled for," Thalia excused herself before she had time to finish her previous sentence. "But no, I don't know what branch you come from."

"Alright… then talk about the green witches."

"Erm," the woman giggled, "my wand, for instance, was not purchased anywhere. You probably got yours from Olivander's?"

"Yeah."

"What's in it?"

"A phoenix's feather."

"Okay," she said, impressed. "Did Olivander tell you how rare that was?"

"Well he told me that the phoenix in question had only given out two features, but that's it…"

"Right, I heard so… Well a phoenix's feather core is the rarest you can find on the market, as opposed to unicorn's hair, which is found everywhere."

"What does your wand contain?"

"Leafs of basil, coriander and Cornish pixie's wings."

"What?"

"You heard me," Miss Beauregard laughed.

Harry's seemed absolutely startled. "I did not buy my wand," Harry, "Thalia explained, I crafted it when I was seven."

"You… you made it yourself? I didn't even know that was possible."

"Well those who don't have access to wandmakers still have the right to use magic. Thousands of years ago, people had to find a way to create wands. Olivander isn't _that_ old, you know," she replied with a wink.

"Can I see it?"

"Of course."

The teacher handed her wand to her student, who delicately picked it up with the tip of his fingers. Twirling it in the air, he noticed it wasn't as smooth as his. It was small and narrow, and it resembled a tree branch. As he observed it more accurately, he realized it was indeed as branch. Thalia had scraped the bark off of it with what seemed to be a knife, which left the surface of the wood covered with long, flat incisions. As he slowly dragged his finger along one of them, he felt a small splinter enter his flesh. In surprise, he let the wand fall on the ground. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I should have warned you," Thalia apologized as she magically healed him. "I've gotten so used to it that I never really realize how badly shaped it is… It's very powerful, since I have always been an excellent magician, but I'm not very good when it comes to manual work."

"You've improved," Harry bitterly said, reaching for the incision on his neck.

His teacher did not reply, and the boy focused his attention on the wand. He noted that it's base was so worn that it was as smooth as his own. "Olivander actually built an empty core that I could place over my wand, but I ended up throwing it out. I like having a direct contact with the wood,"Thalia explained. Harry smiled to her, and then handed the wand back to it's owner.

"So the Thin Ice is alive?" Harry asked, bringing their conversation back to it's initial subject.

"Yes, and it's trying to send both of us a message."

"What is that message?"

"Oh, it's complicated…"

"We have time."

"No we don't," Thalia laughed.

"How come?"

"It's almost two, which means I should be heading, well… for the dungeons," she finished with a smile.

"Oh…"

"So you won't explain how you came to the conclusion that I would die killing Voldemort?"

"Not a chance, Harry, so quit trying," Miss Beauregard recommended.

Harry got up and started walking towards the exit, closely followed by his teacher. When he reached the door, she stopped him. "Wait," she said. "I'd appreciate if you didn't mention the knife incident to… anyone with a high authority."

"Dumbledore?"

"Yeah."

"It's… it's alright…" Harry replied, quite unconvinced.

"Thanks. Remain silent and I'll pretend your little intrusion never happened."

"Good."

Harry smiled. Suddenly he saw a bright side to the woman's peculiar behavior. He was about to step out of the class with his teacher when something hit him. He immediately stopped moving and Thalia accidentally walked into him. "What are you doing?" she asked, puzzled. "Get out, quick!"

"I was just wondering… You won't tell me how you can understand my Thin Ice, but could you please tell me this… What do you see in that Thin Ice?"

Harry did not know why this intrigued him, but he knew it did. He also knew it was irrelevant, if not impolite to ask this to his teacher, but it seemed as thought his relationship with Thalia had passed the student/teacher stade. To his great pleasure, and also to his surprise, she answered. "The Shrieking Shack," she whispered, avoiding to look into his eyes.

"How come?" he also whispered.

"That's were it happened…"

"What did?"

"Everything," she replied, her gaze lost somewhere in the surrounding darkness.

A small spark had appeared in the depths of her pupils, and it's glare reminded Harry of the madness that had filled Sirius' eyes two years ago, the first time he had met him. Something inside him twisted painfully as he realized it was the light that appeared into one's eyes when the person in question had been driven insane by grief and sorrow. Only, seconds later, that light seamed to fade out, and die, leaving Thalia's brown eyes as dark as the night that ruled outside the castle walls. "One day I'll tell you everything. I have too, and I know it. But not tonight," she said with a sad smile. "I'm too tired tonight." The water that filled the eyes of his teacher convinced Harry to remain silent at that moment. The woman gently pushed him into her office and grabbed a large bag that was resting on the ground. Apparently, she was leaving with Harry. As the boy realized he would be escorted back to his dormitory – which meant the end of his excursion – Thalia appeared by his side, eyes clean of any form of tears. "Also," she told him, waving the small silver key that gave access to her apartments, "I am late." She locked the door and was about to put the key away when she realized her student was eagerly watching her every movement, hoping to discover where she hid the key in question. She laughed a little, then said: "Spy all you want, Potter, even if you know where it is, you'll never reach it."

Saying this, she placed the key on her chest, and Harry witnessed the key melting and then entering Thalia's body. The object had been sucked up by her flesh and was now invisible to all. The boy made all his possible not to gasp to loudly. He smiled back to his teacher, and then led the way out in the corridors. They silently walked down to the Fat Lady's portrait where Thalia bade Harry a good night. The portrait had not even covered up the hole leading to the Gryffondor common room that Thalia was marching in the opposite direction.


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning, Harry was awaken by a furious Hermione. "Where in the Devil's name were you ?" she shouted, violently shaking him by the shoulders. The boy oppened his eyes to see her howling about an inch away from his nose. When she finally moved back a bit, he caught a glimpse of Ron standing by her side, an apologetic expression on his face. As Hermione finished yelling about God knows what, Harry asked: "Why is it that we never get the chance to wake her up this hellish way?"

"Boys aren't allowed in the girl's dorm," Ron replied with a smile.

"Ah…Well the idiot who invented that rule probably didn't care much about his sleep."

Harry got up and before he had time to place his old glasses on his nose, he heard Hermione screech. "What again?" he complained, his head painfully throbbing.

"Harry… you didn't meet any vampires did you?" Ron asked, incredulous.

"Oh dear God, he was in the Forbidden Forest!" Hermione screamed, jumping to conclusions. "Harry you have to stop doing that, you will get killed sooner or later, and if Hagrid knew…"

"Hagrid!" Harry said out loud, causing Hermione to cease talking in the middle of her sentence. "I saw him, yesterday… or this morning, I don't remember…"

"Did he do that to you?" Hermione asked, horrified.

"Do what?"

Harry was getting sick of these little charades. He considered the main advantage of Christmas vacations was the absence of an alarm clock to pull him out of bed at outrageously early hours. Therefore, he did not appreciate his friends depriving him of his precious hours of sleep. "Harry, look at your pillow," Hermione said, finally bringing her voice back down to a normal level. Harry did so and saw that the usually white sheets were now almost entirely red. Putting his hand to his wounded neck, he discovered that it had opened sometime during the night, pouring generous amounts of blood all over his bed. He sighed. "Don't worry, it's… wounds around your head usually bleed a lot for nothing…" he explained, unsure of how he knew this fact. He lazily got on his feet and walked towards the wardrobe he and his roommates used to hang their school uniforms. He opened one of the doors and revealed the existence of a tall looking-glass. It was covered with inscriptions of all sorts but Harry simply erased them with a flicker of his wand. "Eh, now we won't know who won the bet," Ron complained.

"You boys bet? On what?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, many things," Ron evasively answered.

"Such as?"

"Well…"

"You bet on which girls you can get, which ones will break up…"

"How do you know that?" Ron asked at his turn, outraged.

"I didn't, but now I do! Ronald, and Harry too, you can't do this, it's simply degrading for us to know that you place money on our sorrows as if he were simply horses in a race, or chickens in a battle…"

"Well that's why we made sure you don't find out!" Ron replied.

Harry shut out the voices of his friends from his mind and focused on his reflection. His pillow was absorbed most of the blood that had leaked from his cut, and so very little blood has remained on his skin. He managed to rub off the small dark brown crust it had formed and closed the wardrobe's door. After a second's hesitation, he oppened it again and magically, all the words he had erased from the mirror appeared on it at once. After all, he did bet a full five galleons that Ginny Weasley would break up with her boyfriend before the end of the year. He sighed. He did not know why, but something inside him just wouldn't accept that she dates that young Ravenclaw. He smiled. Ron's older-brother protection over his sister was starting to rub off on him.

Jumping across his bed, he reached his suitcase and oppened it on his bed, spilling half on it's contents on the soiled sheets. Beside him, Hermione and Ron were still arguing about the boys' right to make money on other people's lives. As he pulled of his old shirt and replaced it with a warm vest, their conversation stopped. Harry understood a second too late that they were now addressing him.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked.

"What are you doing?" Ron repeated.

"Going to see Hagrid for Christmas. Whoever comes with me gets to hear in world premiere the fantastic adventures I lived last night," Harry replied with a wink.

"Harry, I can't come," Hermione giggled, "I have Runes this morning."

"What?"

"And I don't think Miss Trewlaney would appreciate you skipping her oh-so-important lecture on the powers of the third eye," she continued.

Harry fell down on his bed. Dates were quickly flying by in his head as he tried to put his finger on one of them. Yesterday he had went into Thalia's office, after seeing her with Hagrid. We had went there to change his mind from Thalia's attacks towards the Gryffondor house, which she had perpetrated when they had refused to help Slytherins student study with them, which meant that yesterday was a Wednesday, and this day… "Thursday?" he asked his two comrades. They both nodded. He let his head fall back on his pillow once again. He could not believe that all he had lived only hours ago had held in one single night. "Then why did you wake me up?" he moaned, hiding his face in his still warm sheets.

"So you could tell us why it took you so long to get back here," Ron answered.

"And so you could explain this pool of blood," Hermione added with a half sly-smile.

Harry sat up and without a word, left his two friends. When he came back moments later, he was fully dressed and ready to enter class. "How much time do I have?"

"Thirty minutes, if you don't mind running afterward," Ron giggled.

"Make it twenty five then," Hermione objected.

"Breakfast?" Harry asked, as his stomach growled in anger.

"Your friend Dobby dropped this off when he realized you wouldn't be there to taste his very own porridge," Ron said, pointing a gigantic bowl filled with what had once been hot porridge.

"Alright," Harry started, sticking a spoon in the cold meal, "last night, I was so angry at… everyone, really, that I decided I would go see Hagrid…"

***

"Ron, could I talk to you?" Ginny asked her out of breath older brother as he ran down the Main Hall.

"No!" the brother in question replied, barely stopping himself to deliver his answer.

"What?" she asked him in vain, as he was already starting the ascent of the never ending staircase that led to Miss Trelawney's classroom.

"Late!" Harry shouted as he also passed by her.

The girl laughed at their hurry, and Harry took the time to give her a little wink. As he jumped up the staircase close behind Ron, he thought that she looked quite sad. He felt somewhat proud of making her laugh, even though it was quite unintentional. Harry's story had taken longer then he had thought, and it was only when Dobby appeared to clean his empty bowl of porridge that Harry discovered how late he and Ron were. Hermione had simply smiled as then threw themselves out of the Gryffondor common room, her class being only a corridor away. Finally, they managed to reach their places about half a second before the bell rang. They were quite proud of what they dared to call a running feat, nevertheless they saw their teacher darting them an angry look as she placed her two most hideous tea cups in front of them. She even let out a small, desperate sigh as she filled the cups with boiling water. As they clumsily threw pinches of tea into the steaming liquid, she rolled her eyes and simply left. Behind them, Harry heard Parvati Patil let out a small laugh. He inwardly promised himself to bet a galleon on her imminent breakup with Seamus.

Harry quickly emptied his cup of tea, gulping down it's entire contents within seconds. He grumpily passed on his cup to Ron. "Argh!" his friend cried. "This is hot enough to make stone melt!"

"Not enough to reheat that porridge though," Harry joked.

"Alright well, what do we have here… It may be the rain drop of pain, or maybe the sun of eternal beauty," he proposed with a wink. "Oh wait, this one is easy actually. It looks like a crow…"

Ron placed his open book under Harry's eyes, and the boy had to admit the image in the book and the figure in his cup were almost identical. His tea was gathered up in an oval, which was the crow's body, and a small circle, which was his head. Two lines also composed it's legs. Strangely, there was a small hole in the head, right at the spot were it's eye should have been. A small branch even officiated as the crow's beak. To Harry, such a striking similarity had to be more than simple coincidence. "Well, what does it say?" he asked his friend, impatient.

"Since when do you care about the messages your food sends you?"

"I'm not kidding Ron, quickly, before she sees it!"

"Alright well upwards it means bad news, but if it's upside down then it means, erm, disguise of evil… How can a tea cup be upside down, anyways?"

Harry took mental note of Ron's analysis, but before he had time to explain his curiosity to his friend, he heard a piercing, high pitched shriek. "The black crow! My dear boy, my very dear boy, bad news indeed. Seeing it's position, I should think news of death…"

"Wait," Ron interrupted her, still reading a page from his voluminous book, "it says here that when the handle is on the left side, then the cup is considered as being upside down… Wouldn't that mean that the crow represents evil in disguise?"

Miss Trewlaney's jaw dropped as she observed her student. She ripped the teacup out of Ron's hands. The boy in question simply sat back down, just now realizing what an insulting affront this comment had been to his teacher. Miss Trewlaney, after throwing a quick glance at the book, threw it on one of the small couches that surrounded her, missing Neville by only inches. "Well, it takes a real beginner, I dare not say an idiot," she stated, "to forget that evil in disguise is simply another way of saying that death will arrive without warning." On that she marched towards her desk, giving back to a slightly paler Ron the cup she had taken him seconds earlier. "Don't worry mate," Harry whispered as the sound of conversations quickly came back, "to her everything is a way of saying death will arrive without warning." He then tried interpreting the red-head's cup, but without any success. The pack of wet tea leaves had formed what could only be compared to a pack of wet tea leaves, and so Harry had to invent a prediction at random. Though he tried to make it as realistic as possible, his head was not to it. His mind was rather focusing on something Thalia had told him about a week ago… _In my case, for example_, he recalled her soft voice saying, _a black crow is associated with Severus._ Harry knew he had to tell his teacher about this, but he certainly did not want to do so. To him, the association was clear: Snape was evil in disguise. He simply feared that if Thalia discovered what he knew, she would make sure he couldn't transmit the message to anyone else… That little pouch on her waist was so easy to reach.

***

As Harry arrived in front of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, he realized he was not the only one who seemed nervous. Many students were pacing up and down the hallway, and most of them were enumerating endless lists of information, their eyes shut. It took Harry a few seconds to remember that today he would receive the dreadful test Thalia had warned them about. He felt his stomach jolt inside his body. The exam had fled his head a long time ago. He had learned so many things last night that the revision for this test seemed to belong in another chapter of his existence. As he was slowly bringing DADA lessons back into his memory, he saw Thalia appear at the end of the corridor. He was about to warn her about the prediction his tea cup had made when he saw her eyes. They were shining coldly, as hard as steel, and their usual warmth had simply vanished. He imitated the other students as they moved backwards in order to let her gain access to the door and unlock it. No student dared to say a word and everyone silently followed her inside the classroom. Very carefully, each student took place at a desk, everyone making their possible to sit close to students from the other House. Harry quickly spotted a group of uneasy Slytherins situated nearby and sat with them, making any communication between them impossible. They all sighed in relief. None of them wanted to be on Thalia's bad side that day. Harry recognized the girl that had came up to the Gryffondor common room last night and smiled at her. If he had any luck, Thalia had caught a glimpse of this scene. Sadly, she did not. When the bell rang, the woman was as sullen as before. She took out her wand and with a yank of the wooden object, a pile of heavy documents appeared in front of her. She snapped, and a copy fell loudly in front of every student. The racket this operation had caused seemed to be just another way for Thalia to show her students she was in a terrible mood, and Harry had to admit it worked wonders. She then oppened her mouth with an annoyed look and pronounced the only ten words she would pronounce of the entire period. "Write your name," she snapped, apparently annoyed, "remain silent, fill in the blanks. Go." On that, all the students took out a quill and started silently writing.

The class went smoothly, and for a moment Harry was hopeful enough to believe he would not face Thalia's anger for a second time in about twelve hours. Only, after half an hour, he was proved wrong. As every student wrote in silence, a small man situated in the portrait at then end of the class coughed slightly in order to catch Thalia's attention. If she had heard it or not, none knew, as she kept on writing on a meter long piece of parchment. The man did not seem to catch this was a warning that, for his own sake, it was recommended to stay silent. Harry tried communicating with the man, but he did not seem to understand the boy's silent gestures. When he coughed again, Thalia picked up her wand and gently tapped it against her desk. All the students looked up to see what would happen next, but they were deceived: everything in the class remained still, as if Thalia hadn't conjured anything. It was only when they all returned to their copies that a bottle of ink jerked upwards and flew directly into the portrait, shattering and spilling it's jet black contents all over the living room illustrated in the painting. The little man, apparently terrible at decoding silent warnings, ran into the portrait that was situated only a few feet away from the teacher. "My home!" he whined loudly. All the students held their breath. Without detaching her eyes from the text she was producing, she lifted her wand and gracefully drew a small circle in the air. Harry saw Hermione shrink on her seat, covering her face with her hands. He looked at her with wide eyes but before she had time to warn him, the frame that hosted the man burst into flames. The fire was close to the students sitting at the back of the class, but none of them dared complaining. They simply lifted their desk and moved it away from the roaring brazier.

The little man had finally understood Thalia's message and instead of trying to interact with her, he proceded into extinguishing his furniture. The rest of the class was ponctuated by his groans of anger, but the man managed to keep them as suddle as possible. When the bell rang, every student, Gryffondor like Slytherin, neatly placed their answer sheet on her desk, and then ran out of the class as if to save their life. Harry had to admit that he too was walking quite quicker than usual. Soon enough, Ron and Hermione had joined him, a few minutes later the three of them were sitting down in front of a delicious lunch. Harry looked at his time table and almost choked on his string beans. His next course was Care for Magical Creatures, which he knew by experience would be spent chasing pixies Hagrid could then use as elves to decorate the Christmas tree. After that, he had potions. Harry gasped. Though Snape had starting being slightly fairer towards Harry, the boy knew a potions class was the best cure against hapiness. Also, he guessed that if Thalia was in such an loathsome humor, Snape would too.


	11. Chapter 11

Harry arrived at the potions class a good five minutes before the bell rang: he wanted to make sure his most dreaded teacher had nothing to reproach him. Staying away from the other students, he double-checked his uniform, from his shoelaces to his tie knot. He made sure his shirt was tucked into his pants and that his sweater was free of any speck of dust. As he was attempting to somehow comb his rebellious hair with his bare fingers, he saw the heavy door, only thing that separated him from an angry Snape, open. The flow of students immediately stepped into the class, and Harry had no choice but to follow. He sat at his usual seat, which he was very fond of, mostly because it was surrounded by shadows and therefore hard to discern form the teacher's emplacement. He immediately proceeded into piling up his books on his desk, creating a fence of paper to defend him against his enemy's wrath. Finally, he neatly placed all of his ingredients in the small platter he would be using later on, and cautiously placed his bag under his chair, to make sure it couldn't possibly catch anyone's attention – or feet, as it was. Once all this was accomplished, he finally permitted himself to breathe. The chilly air barely had time to reach his lungs that Harry forced it back out of his body. He had just heard the sound of footsteps echoing in the dungeons. Making all his possible to seem as small and harmless as he could, he shrunk back on his chair, trying to blend with the wood that composed it. Little did he know that all these precautions were useless. As pain spread into his crooked back, he saw, for the second time this day, Miss Beauregard sitting down at the teacher's desk.

"Good evening, everyone," she said calmly, "and welcome to potions class. For some quite… horrible reasons, actually, professor Snape will not be able to present himself here and grace you with his knowledge and wisdom, so it seems as though I'm going to have to take this huge responsibility on my shoulders."

"Where is he?" Zabini asked abruptly.

"Somewhere," the woman replied, darting two angry eyes on his pale figure.

"No, really, you should no, shouldn't you?"

"Ask this another time and we'll be using your eyes instead of the toads'."

"Alright, stop!" Hermione shouted out of the blue, taking both teacher and student by surprise.

"Stop… asking her where Snape is?" Zabini replied, uncertain.

"No!" the Gryffondor replied, "Miss Beauregard! Stop threatening your students, please! Couldn't you just retract House Points? I'm sorry to tell you this right now, but it… it sickens me the way you use verbal violence so easily against us."

Harry turned to observe Hermione, who looked pale and truly disgusted. From under his desk, he reached for her hand and held it in his for a few seconds, addressing her a small comforting smile. She grinned back, but if Harry had not knew she was simply upset, he could have sworn she looked sick. Thalia also seemed to realize that her punishments might sound harsh to the portion of the class who had not been raised as a serial killer. "Don't excuse yourself for that dear, you have every right to tell me so…" she assured Hermione, who immediately sighed in relief. "Only, I simply refuse to use competition as a way of motivating children, well, teenagers. This House system is used to divide you and it emphasizes your differences rather than the qualities you have in common, as it should. Teachers usually play the game because…"

Thalia stopped half way through her lecture, stunned. Surprise was written all over her features, and soon she started talking again, only her speech was miles away from her initial one. "Actually, I wouldn't mind trying this system for, say, one period. You guys ready to be my Guinea pigs?" she seriously stated. The class didn't reply, and she went on. "Well then Miss Granger," she said, "ten points to Gryffondor for proposing this marvelous idea. Actually no, I take them back."

The students burst into laughter. Thalia also permitted herself a little chuckle. "No, I think I'll only be retracting points for today. Now, where was I? Oh yes, professor Snape's regretted absence. And mister Zabini had a question, I think?"

"Erm, yeah… I was wondering where Snape was," the Slytherin asked once again.

"_Erm_ isn't a word dear boy, twenty points off Slytherin."

"What?" Draco exploded.

"Please don't interrupt me while I'm speaking. This will cost the Slytherin house another ten points," Thalia continued.

"Alright," Draco shouted… "Alright," he then added, soothed. "I understand why I could loose points… but Zabini?"

"You are contesting my decisions. Another ten points."

"Ma'am?" a little voice cried out from the back of the class.

"Yes, Melany?" Miss Beauregard asked the girl Harry had smiled to only hours ago.

"What potion will we be preparing today? "

Unlike the other Slytherins, she seemed to understand that arguing would only cost her House more points. "We will be creating Wolfbane," she answered, apparently unable to find any flaw in the question worth retracting Slytherin any more points. "Can you tell me in what year it was discovered?"

"Ee, in, erm, 19…"

"Oh, too long," Thalia said, almost apologetically. "Twenty points will be retracted from your House my dear."

"Thalia this is ridiculous!" Draco burst once again, jumping on his feet.

"It might be Thalia when I'm staying at the mansion, Mr. Malfoy, but here my name is Miss Beauregard. Twenty points."

"Miss _Beauregard_, then…" Malfoy started, meanly emphasizing on the name.

"Are you mocking me?" Thalia asked with a rather honest smile. "Another ten points!"

This time, Malfoy kept his mouth shout. His eyes filled with loathing, he sat back down. Thalia, on the other hand, looked simply delighted. Nobody could have guessed that not so long ago, she had set fire to a portrait simply out of rage. "So what's the count then? 90 points I think… Oh yes…" she muttered to herself. "Well, lets round it up to a hundred and call it a day," she added, joyfully clapping her hands in conclusion. There was a gasp of horror from the green side of the classroom. In all Hogwarts history, Harry doubted any House had ever lost as many points in such a short time. For such stupid reasons, that is. As whispers of anger started becoming audible, Thalia decided to calm everyone down. "Don't worry, to compensate for this loss, all Slytherin students will be spared of homework for tonight. Potions' homework, that is." The murmur of Salazar's House immeditaly ceased, slowly substituted by the murmur of the Gryffondors.

"Why couldn't she take those points from us!" Harry heard Ron complain from the other end of the table.

"Ronald!" Hermione answered, outraged to see her friend cared more about his personal pleasure than the well being of his House.

"What… Snape probably left tons of it in order to make up with his absence," Ron stated in his defense.

"Well, maybe…" was the only thing Hermione found to reply.

"Is she allowed to refuse to give to Snape's students the homework he intended on giving them?" Harry asked, interposing himself between his two friends.

"Probably not… As a substitute, she has to follow the guidelines he left her," Hermione said.

Before they had time to explain themselves this strange fact, their teacher spoke again. "So. Wolfbane. Created in 1976, as Melany was about to say, I am sure."

***

A loud clinging sound was heard throughout the half-empty corridor as Snape loudly dropped his suitcase on the ground. He had just caught a sight of the four giant hourglasses that kept count of the House Points, and more especially of the Slytherin hourglass. The number of small emeralds it contained had fallen drastically, nearly reaching the ground, a good meter separating it's top from the one of the following House, Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff and Gryffondor, the leaders, had about twice as many points as Slytherin. The Head of House knew his students usually lost points in other classes than his, but his day-long absence could not excuse the loss of more than a hundred points. His shocked mind was unable to grasp the reality, and he couldn't turn towards anybody for an explanation. Around him, students of all Houses but his were walking by, very few noticing his presence, fewer noticing his stupefaction, and simply none caring about his poor state of mind. It was only when one of his colleague walked by that he had the presence of mind of asking what he had on his mind.

"Mi… Minerva ?" he asked the woman in question as she silently saluted him with a nod.

"Yes, Professor Snape?"

"Erm… I was wondering if, erm, you could tell me… How did the Slytherin House loose all these points?"

The potion's master could easily see that Miss MacGonagall was simply thrilled by the news: she could barely hide her joyful smile from him as she said: "Well, I believe you retracted them, Severus."

"I wouldn't think so," he said gravely, "as I was gone the entire day. Perhaps the Headmaster would have told you…"

"Oh, yes…" she replied, frowning, "I believe that is true… Well, the points were lost only moments ago, during the last period. And the Slytherins had Potions class this last period."

"Would you happen to know," Severus impatiently stated, "who might have replaced me during my absence?"

His fellow teacher's tardiness annoyed his already annoyed mind. And what annoyed him more than anything was that he had already guessed who had taken his place as potion's teacher that day. "I believe… I believe Miss Beauregard took your place," the old witch said, coming to her senses. "I'm so sorry Severus, we thought she would be best for the position… You taught her so much since you know each other, and, well, she is the only other teacher prone to encourage Slytherin…"

"Alright," Snape snapped. "I don't blame you. Now is there any way my House can get these points back?"

"I wouldn't think so… Oh dear God," Minerva said, "I'm sorry again Severus, but Dumbledore is expecting me in his office in about a minute, I must go, really."

She abandoned the astonished teacher in the corridor, rapidly marching towards the Headmaster's office without a goodbye. Snape was about to do so when from the corner of the eye he caught a glimpse of a white figure, accentuated by the black robes of the students surrounding it. The ghostly image approached him slowly, as he stayed standing in the same point, livid. The figure finally came at a stop, and simply said, grinning with all it's teeth: "Hello darling."

"What is this?" the man replied, staring at her with rage.

"Oh, simply a little test. You've told me a hundred times that this system of points worked. Actually, you were right. It did have the effect I wanted."

Thalia simply couldn't help herself from smiling. She was simply exultant with joy, a ray of sunshine. The only feature that stood out of the glow of happiness was her eyes: if they could have talked, they would have been crying "Revenge!" . She was carrying a pile of papers that she simply placed into her boyfriend's inert arms. "Here are the results of the Wolfbane experience."

"What?" Snape shouted, as he saw each and every Slytherin student had failed the class.

"Oh yes… It was quite pathetic, you should have seen. Anyways, I got to get running, I have tests to correct. You won't be having that problem thought, since only half your class will be doing the homework you had assigned. Goodbye my love."

Still bearing a huge grin, she bent forwards and kissed Snape on the cheek. As she was leaving him, though, Snape finally left his apathetic state and expressed himself. "You can't bring down an entire House simply for personal reasons," he said calmly, his eyes half-closed.

"Really?" Thalia replied, turning back to face him with an amused look shinning in her eyes. "I was under the impression you've been doing it for years."

A bitter smile appeared on the man's thin lips. "Don't tell me this is about you defending the poor little Gryffondors."

"Of course not. This is about me attacking you," Thalia honestly replied .

"Because…?"

"You know what this is about."

Miss Beauregard was about to leave when Nick Zabini walked by the two teachers, two younger Slytherins by his side. "Zabini," Snape announced without detaching his eyes from his girlfriend's, "a hundred points for the quality of your tie knot." He slightly turned his head to observe the emeralds contained in the giant hour-glassed, but they remained still. Puzzled, he gasped as Thalia explained. "A head of House cannot attribute an excessive amount of points to the students of his own House without the Headmatser recognizing the student in question fully deserves them," she recited from mind.

"Alright then," Snape fulminated, "you can leave Zabini."

As the Slytherin walked away, Snape suddenly gave out a large smile. Thalia glanced behind her shoulder, worried, but all she could see was a small gang of Gryffondors.

"Potter!" Snape called with the same tone of voice he employed every time he would speak to Harry, "I immediately retract a hundred points from your House. Your shoelace is untied," he explained with an evil grin. Harry had barely started to complain that his shoelace was not untied but simply a little bit lazy that the pile of rubies situated in the bottom basin of the hourglass magically starting shooting upwards. Only a few of them had had time to leave that Thalia replied. "Harry," she said, "a hundred and one points for the, what is it again? Oh yes, the quality of your tie knot." The few rubies that where levitating fell back to their initial place with a soft clinging sound. "How…?" Snape started.

"I'm not head of House," Thalia replied.

"You are unbelievable!" he cried, filled with anger. "A hundred points from Gryffondor for hosting the world's most bitter, jealous bitch."

It seemed as though any reason was good enough to retract points, as once again, the giant hourglass started emptying itself. "I'm sorry?" Thalia asked, horrified. "That better have been _witch_."

"It wasn't."

"You should know that it was Slytherin that made me a bitch."

"You're going to retract points for that too?" Snape mocked her. "It seems as though any reason is good enough to pursue your puerile little attack."

"No," the woman replied, "I won't take any points off. I'll add points. A hundred points to Gryffondor for hosting the world's loveliest, nicest, sweetest and most beatiful _witch_," she said, emphasizing the last word.

"You better not be talking about you," Snape laughed.

"You know I'm not."

Thalia kept staring at Snape for a few awkward seconds, then turned on her heels and left. Snape patiently waited before the hourglass, watching the last rubies Thalia had conjured fall back into the hourglass, then turned around to look at Ginny and Harry, and finally left, disoriented. "What just happened?" Ginny nervously giggled.

"Domestic rows," Harry explained, rolling his eyes.

"We didn't loose points because of… well, you know…. what Snape said?"

"No, no we didn't. It all came out even."

"Alright, good," Ginny murmured.

They both fell silent, staring at the collection of rubies, emeralds, sapphires and round discs of amber lying before their eyes. The redhead finally broke the silence. "Anyways, I got to go… I've got to meet… Well I have to be at the lake soon enough. Bye Harry." She hesitated a few seconds, then gave him a quick hug and nearly ran away, slightly blushing. Harry was about to leave when he realized that his Potion's teacher had forgotten his suitcase. Unsure of what to do, he tried to find someone he could ask to go get the Professor, but the corridor had emptied during Snape and Thalia's public fight. He was about to lift it up in order to deliver it to it's owner in the dungeons, but he stopped his hand about an inch from the handle: he ignored what safety disposal Snape had placed on his belongings, but he was not in the mood for finding himself hanging head down from the ceiling, or simply bursting into flames. Therefore, he stayed about five minutes beside the suitcase, and as he was about to leave to warn Snape of his loss, he saw the teacher in question walking up towards him.

He arrived in front of the boy within a few seconds, and abruptly asked: "You didn't touch it?"

"No," Harry answered on the defensive.

"Don't lie to me, Potter…"

"I didn't touch it!"

"This isn't about you being in trouble, I simply don't want you to find yourself dead within a few hours, now have you made skin contact with it or no?" he hammered loudly, detaching every word with his deep voice.

"NO!" Harry shouted.

"Alright," Snape simply said after a while, calming down.

He looked at Harry for a few seconds, then stared at the four hourglasses. He gave a small nod, and left. Harry was about to do so himself when he heard a small clinging noise emaning from the Gryffondor hourglass. He turned to observe about a dozen small rubies adding themselves ot the already huge pile of shiny, crimson stones.


	12. Chapter 12

_Hello fellow HP fans! Short message I would like to deliver. Firstly, thanks to all my readers. It feels so weird saying I have readers :P Secondly, comments would be appreciated... especially from this point on in the story, as I'm taking a bit more risks in my scenario and my characters life stories... Also, summer is almost here. So enjoy all the nice little things of life (including this chapter!):_

Harry slowly walked down the empty hallway and climbed up the stairs until he arrived in front of the Gryffondor common room. Before the Fat Lady even had to ask, he muttered: "Cornucopia". This simply horrible password had been chosen by the Fat Lady herself about two months ago, the day she threatened to kill a student if the password was to be changed to another incomprehensible quote a single other time. This big drama, which had captivated the inhabitants of Hogwarts' portraits since the beginning of the year, had been started, just like any other drama, by one of the Weasley brothers. Ron, taking advantage of his status of prefect, had taken the habit of using different types of insults and vulgarities as passwords, to the Fat Lady's great displeasure: she did not enjoy being regularly sworn at by thousands of students. Unable to stand this "humiliating torture", the Fat Lady had rummaged through the library, trying to find a misplaced coma that could permit her to simply ignore the passwords chosen by prefects. She failed to do so, but she had still managed to find an ancient rule that gave her the right to name one of the two prefects "Key Master". She had obviously given this somewhat prestigious title to Hermione, who had then decided, simply overwhelmed with joy, that the new Gryffondor password would be NATURAM EXPELLES FURCA, TAMEN USQUE RECURRET. "In honor of Horace, of course," she had replied when her two most faithful friends had dared to asked why in her right mind she would choose such a complicated, Latin sentence as a password. Complaints had burst forth the very day this new password had been officiated, forcing Hermione to change it once again. Sadly, her love for Latin quotations had not died, and for about two weeks, students had taken the habit of writing down the new password in order to remember it. It was only when a pack of first grade students had been obligated to wait for an hour outside the door that the Fat Lady had taken things in hand. On that sunny day of mid-October, it had been declared that the new password would be Cornucopia.

Leaving the fascinating epic of the Gryffondor password, Harry came back to reality. In front of him the Fat Lady's portrait had swung open, and he could easily distinguish the rabble that filled the common room to it's brim. Almost all the red and golden uniforms were in the circular tower, celebrating in advance the upcoming vacations. This display of joy gave Harry a little grin, but still somehow filled his heart with disgust. Without even stepping into the small tunnel that led to his friends, he turned around and pursued his pointless walk. Behind his slouched back, the Fat Lady simply swung back into her original place, and left her portrait, probably joining some type of Christmas celebration herself. As he was wandering within the school walls, Harry suddenly realized he had lost many hours recently, simply wandering within the school walls. His head has filled with thoughts he did not dare express, but now his skull was tearing him apart. "The Dark Lord never managed to trouble my mind," he thought bitterly, "but one of my teachers is about to drive me insane." It was ridiculous. The only reason why Thalia's image was permanently engraved in Harry's mind was that he refused to let her out by talking to anyone. On the other hand, when it came time to talk about Voldemort… Dumbledore. The name jumped into Harry's mind like a cat on a mouse, taking the boy by surprise. Of course. He could never be completely honest with his two friends, but the Headmaster had always been there to reassure him. Harry sighed in relief. He had finally found a point to his walk.

* * *

The student knocked three times on the heavy wooden door and waited. He had heard voices inside the Headmaster's office, but they had vanished the second he knocked. The door creaked open, and Harry's sight was immediately embellished by Dumbledore's honest smile. Harry felt a warm rush spread in his body. Without waiting for an invitation, Harry stomped in the office. "So Harry," the Headmaster simply stated, slouching his old carcass on his tall chair. The boy took a seat facing the old man and waited. "I believe you came here of your own will… so why don't you start," the bearded man added with a wink.

"Erm, yes. I…"

Right at that moment Harry realized he had no reason for sitting on the uncomfortable wooden chair facing Dumbledore's desk. He said the first thing he could think of. "Why is Thalia at Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Has there been a problem?" Dumbledore frowned.

Harry could think of a dozen problems he had encountered, starting with a small cut he could still feel on his neck. "No, not at all. I just keep wondering how you manage to bring teachers who always have something… new, to tell about my parents."

"I see. Rest assured, I have not brought her to the school simply for that…"

There was a moment of silence, then he continued. "I guess you already know enough on her account that I don't need to try to hide anything from you anymore. Snape had mentioned her a few times these last years. They had lost touch when Voldemort's reign had ended, but they had renewed their relationship only a few years after, through old friends. Friends Thalia had until then refused to meet face to face... Apparently she had left her retreat and was starting to renew with the Dark Lord and his supporters."

"How come?"

"I don't believe it's my role to tell you her entire life story… Though of course you might have started to sort it out," he admitted to himself. "As I was saying, she was starting to turn towards these ancient comrades for support, and I feared they would accept her once again."

"You mean you thought she would go back to being a Death Eater?"

"Not a Death Eater no…" Dumbledore replied. "Well maybe, actually, I don't see why not, but I was mostly scared she would… She's a powerful witch, but most of all she's passionate. She does not use her reason to make decisions, she leaves all the place to her anger and her frustration. I saw her as an ambulant bomb, ticking faster and faster, ready to burst in our hands. I thought giving her another noble cause to fight for might be a way of evacuating this anger she keeps inside in such an unhealthy way."

"Did it work?" Harry asked, voluntarily ignoring the fact he also had this unhealthy habit.

"No."

Dumbledore let out a sincere laugh, and pursued. "You know, I'm starting to believe there are some things men are not meant to meddle with. Women for instance. Yesterday I destroyed all my chances of saving her…"

"How come?"

"I think she understood I was trying to save her. She does not like putting her faith into someone else's hands. That's why she chose to take no position. She could adore Voldemort, or she could follow orders. Nothing was appealing to her."

"And she chose to say neutral."

"I don't think she's neutral. I believe she has friends on both sides, and enemies on both sides. And she's trying to find a way both can win. "

"It's impossible."

"Maybe it is…"

A small knock came from the door and Dumbledore pointed it with the tip of his chin, silently asking Harry to open it for him. The boy did so, and he found himself facing Thalia. Inside him something burst in anger. He found that for a traumatized girl who couldn't stand being in his presence, she was around far too often. He stepped aside and let her enter. "I see I am not the only one who considers Albus as a psychiatrist," she giggled. Dumbledore gave Harry a grave look, and Harry gently nodded. He understood he had to leave. After all, he had completely forgotten the purpose of his visit, and he would rather not steal any of Dumbledore's precious time. He was about to walk down the stairs under his teachers' supervision when Fawkes gave out a low cry, probably biding his friend goodbye. Harry observed the animal. He was at the end of his life. His eyes were small and tired, and his entire silhouette was leaning forward, as if he was about to fall of his perch. His feathers were now a dark crimson, so dark from far the animal seemed as black as a crow. A crow. Harry jumped back into Dumbledore's office, feverish. "Thal… Miss Beauregard, about the attack, I have to tell you…"

"Harry," replied his teacher, "calm down. There is no attack. There's been a terrible misinterpretation."

"What?"

"We believe the Thin Ices…" Dumbledore started, adopting a very diplomatic tone of voice.

"I'll be honest Albus," Thalia interrupted. "The Thin Ices had a little fun on our account, predicting a catastrophe they had planned themselves. It only affects Severus and I so don't worry…"

"I told you, you shouldn't have kept as many of them together," the Headmaster objected.

"Wait," Harry objected, "it, it did affect me. I got a message."

"What?" Thalia asked simply by reflex.

"During Divination class, I read something in my tea."

"Did it announce you were going to die?" the woman asked with a skeptical smile.

"No, I read it myself," Harry replied harshly. "The tea leaves had the shape of a black crow. A black crow backwards, actually, and the book said it was evil in disguise."

At the mention of a black crow, Thalia had frowned. But now, she seemed radiant. She looked at Dumbledore with a superior glint in her eyes, and turned back towards Harry. "Well it turns out this fits perfectly with our original scenario. When did you get this message?"

"Erm, yesterday I think…"

Recently, time had gotten out of Harry's control. He had always liked the fact that a minute was always sixty seconds long, and that a day held only twenty-four hours. Only it seemed that these days, it was impossible for Harry to tell apart a day from another. The chronological time line that usually served as a background to his memories had simply vanished. Nevertheless, he added : "Yeah, yesterday."

"Harry you are completely serious?" Thalia asked.

"Of course."

"Well then Headmaster…" she said turning towards Dumbledore.

"I believe you were right… sadly. Well I'll take care of warning all the teachers… Would you mind going back to your apartments to see when this attack would happen?"

"My pleasure," Thalia replied.

She quickly paced down the stairs and Dumbledore sighed. The old man looked weary as he sat down back into his great chair, as if he had suddenly grown older of a year or two. Harry, though he knew his friend needed silence and peace, couldn't help but ask: "You did not believe there would be an attack in the end?"

"I tricked myself into believing it, to be honest…" Dumbledore replied with a smile.

"How?"

"Well this morning I realized that the mirrors were probably announcing a simple argument between two professors."

"Thalia and Snape."

"Exactly…"

"But you said… that the mirrors had crafted the catastrophe themselves, or something…"

"Yes. You know, sometimes destiny acts strangely. Knowing your future might cause you to accelerate it. One often finds his destiny on the path he takes to avoid it…"

"Err… what?"

"Nothing," Dumbledore laughed. "It's a proverb I have discovered recently. I find it explains the world and it's peculiarities with much insight."

"Also interested in ancient runes?" Harry asked, at random, thinking of the most intellectual place where the Headmaster could find these pearls of wisdom.

"No, I heard it in a muggle movie about a panda doing Kung-Fu," Dumbledore stated with a giggle.

"…"

"I'll try explaining, Dumbledore laughed. I would have rather have the mirrors announce a little fight between them two… The mirrors could have been announcing many things, and I chose to believe it was predicting the simplest, most harmless one. Therefore, I sent Snape away for a mission, which infuriated Thalia, and which caused the fight. No harm was done, and we simply blamed misinterpretation for the small wave of panic that had hit us."

"Isn't that what happened?" Harry pointed out, puzzled.

"Yes. But then, by sending Snape away and creating this… lets call it a disagreement, well, I might have caused a battle to take place."

"So if you hadn't sent Snape away…" Harry tried.

"Oh it would have probably happened. Faith always has its way. It simply gives us the illusion we can change it."

"But now there is a fight?"

"Yes Harry. A fight will take place. Probably tonight."

The boy sat down, his head throbbing. He did not understand any of the subtleties of Divination, and he hated the fact that he had been forced into them for about a week he would have said, but what a normal calendar would have indicated as… he simply could not say. The Headmaster smiled at him, and offered to bring him back to the Gryffondor common room. The boy refused any help, and instead chose to walk by himself back to the tower. After Dumbledore made him promise multiple times not to talk of the upcoming invasion to any students, Harry making a personal exception of Ron and Hermione, which he considered more like a part of himslef than like other students, he silently walked in the dark corridors, creating a mental calendar and trying to pin the main events he had recently experienced on particular dates.

* * *

Harry let out a slow moan of delight as he sunk into his bed. Only now did he realize he had been up for such a long time. Of course, a small voice in his head kept reminding him he still had to survive diner, and then an other entire day before he could finally pull the sheets over his nose and surrender to the sweet call of sleep. Oh, and he probably would have to fight a few Death Eaters before that too. Harry groaned, unable to find any pleasure in his total inaction anymore. He sat up on his bed and stared out the window. The school grounds resembled a muggle postcard. Hagrid had even brought back to life an old, rickety horse-drawn carriage. Of course, it could not budge, buried in the heavy snow that covered every inch of Hogwarts, and the two-horses that should have officiated at it's front were absent, protected from the icy weather. Nevertheless, Harry was tempted to snap a quick picture of the scene and send it to someone, whoever that someone was.

Suddenly, a small black owl appeared in Harry's field of vision. It gently tapped the glass with it's dark claw, and Harry immediately oppened the window, regretting his action the second a freezing breeze entered the dormitory, which penetrated in his flesh to what Harry believed was the very marrow of his bones. He cursed against the animal, that required at least an eternity and a half to squeeze it's small silhouette into the room and then crash on Neville's bed. Harry hoped his friend would not take notice of the small pile of snow that was quickly melting on the sheets as he shut the window with such force that the owl had a jump of fear. The boy approached the animal, who docilely waited for him to untie the parchment wrapped up around it's small claw. Immediately after, it spread it's thin wings and rushed to the window, starring blindly at Harry. As the boy simply starred back, it let out a small cry, that could only mean: "Yes, I am stupid enough to voluntarily ask that you throw me out in this endless tundra." Harry, ignoring the voice of reason that shouted to him that he was sending the bird to it's death, opened the window once again, shivering as the heavy metal frame swung sideways. Once he was sure no part of the bird's anatomy was blocking the whole piercing the wall, he closed the window once again, damning the idiot that had invented windows. Or, as it is, cold.

He shrugged, and quickly opened the letter he held in his stiff hands, as if hurrying up would somehow cause his blood to circulate once again. He quickly glanced at the signature at the bottom of the piece of parchment. It was from Sirius. The letter was divided in two sections, as if his godfather had stopped halfway through his letter to continue it later on… with a different color of ink. He read the first paragraph, which was far more lengthy than the three lines that composed the second part of the message.

_Dear Harry,_

_Christmas is approaching quickly. I love the snow, it's so beautiful to see light once in a while. At least now, when I'm starring out my window, I can see the shine of the sun reflecting on the white ground. Beautiful._

Harry paused his lecture to look outside once again. This letter had not been written recently: at that moment the sky was gray and the sun barely managed to light up the scenery.

_I thought that we could somehow manage to see each other during the holidays. Do you intend on visiting Ron and his family? Molly has been so kind…_

Harry quickly skimmed through the rest of the first paragraph, written in a light, blue shade of ink. Sirius was simply chatting about the Weasleys, the weather, the upcoming holidays, and the results of the last hockey games – a muggle sport he was especially fond of now that it was the only thing his old television would broadcast. Harry simply skipped to the next three lines, written this time in black, and in a rather botched calligraphy.

_Snape has warned me. Be careful, you know who you can trust, stick to them. Don't take any personal initiatives. I don't like this at all. Protect your good old body – but also your mind. Yours,_

_Sirius_

Harry was puzzled. Protect his mind? It was obvious that his godfather had sent his christmas greetings card in advance in order to warn him, only he did not understand of what. He already knew there would be an attack on the castle. He had actually heard of the news way before Sirius had. But his message seemed coded somehow. He could simply not figure out what he ment when he told Harry to watch his mind: was it linked to this capacity of reading Voldemort's mind Harry had discovered during the summer? He thought of this as an acceptable explanation, and moved on to the next point that triggered an uncomfortable felling in his gut…_ you know who you can trust, stick to them_… What on earth was that supposed to mean? Did Sirius think Snape was actually an ennemy? No, of course not, he was aware that Dumbledore was confident Snape was their ally. Thalia? Harry could not believe she could be mutining against him. If she was bad, than Snape was bound to be as, if not more, evil. She had joined the ranks of Voldemort out of frustration, whereas Snape had done so because he shared his ideology. He sighed. He did not trust Snape, Sirius did not trust Thalia. The student would simply have to stay away from both these teachers for the next few days. If course he doubted it would be possible.

_PS: Slight modification, I've learned the difference thurst and trust. _


	13. Chapter 13

Harry placed Sirius' letter on his bed, and stared at the ceiling. His eyelids were heavy now, and his mind much too full, once again. He sat on a small wooden chair and placed his feet on the small desk that he and his four friends shared, but nonetheless never used: it's drawers were empty and it's surface was free, whereas the rest of the small dorm was jam-packed with items of all sorts. He eyed the letter, then forced himself to place his attention upon the open widow. A dark figure had appeared not far from the cloud behind which the owl had disappeared only minutes ago. It's silhouette was blurry, and Harry could not make out it's contours. Saliva filled the boy's throat, preventing him from swallowing. His thoughts were tangled, he felt suddenly worried. Was it the attack, already? He plunged towards the window, magically sealing it, not daring to touch it with his bare hands. He leaned forward until his nose was half an inch away from the glass. His heart was roaring and his breath formed a warm, grayish spot on the window. He wiped it away with his sleeve. The figure was still. It did not grow nor shrink, it simply remained where it was. Harry sighed, his heart still pounding in his chest. It was a cloud. A simple cloud. He lacked sleep, his brain did not have enough substance to function correctly. He sat up straight, leaving a couple of seconds to his heart to return to a more or less normal pace. Suddenly, a loud screech hit his ears.

The surprise threw the boy off his chair, and he found himself sitting on the bare ground. He quickly got on his feet, adrenaline pulsing through his veins. Harry ran down the cobblestone stairs that led to the Gryffondor common room and halted on the last step. He felt half-relieved to see it was nothing, and half-frustrated to understand he had over-reacted. Thalia had simply set foot in the oval tower, which somehow led to a third-grade girl screaming at the top of her lungs. All of the inhabitants of the common room seemed angry with the young girl, who had turned as red as the couch she was sitting on. A false-alarm. Again. Harry was about to climb the stairs again to reunite with the sweetness of his sheets, but then Thalia frowned and gazed intensely in his eyes. He let out a small moan of pity, hoping a form of superior power would take notice of it and postpone the upcoming battle for a year or two. The teacher got up, and slowly gave out orders. "Would you students please run upstairs to get your friends, and bring them back down here? I have an… important message to deliver, and I would like all the Gryffondor students to be present when I do so." She was undeniably sad. Her grim expression did not leave her features one instant, and it was with the same beat look that she asked Harry to come and join her as the other students were running to their dorms, hurried by Thalia's somehow frightening announcement. Harry slowly walked towards her, realizing Sirius would be quite unhappy when he would learn she had been the one of charge of protecting him during the battle. Tucked under her arm were three or four packages wrapped in a thick velvet envelope. She was only wearing a regular muggle shirt, and Harry caught a glimpse of the jet black tattoo engraved on her forearm. Something jolted upwards in his stomach.

"Harry, could you please help me set these up somewhere?" she asked, breathing heavily.

"Of course," Harry replied. "Are… Is it going to be that bad?" Harry inquired, his teacher's nervosity affecting him.

"What?" she simply continued, gingerly placing the few Thin Ices she had brought on a low coffee table.

"The battle? Is it going to be horrible?" Harry explained.

"Oh, of course not Harry!" Thalia exclaimed. "I'm just so scared… All these students under my responsibility, I don't know what to do." She chuckled lightly. "I'm not used to protecting the people with whom I battle. People like Bella don't need defense… Anyways," she said, cutting short to what Harry guessed was a moment of nostalgia, "I hope they are going to send a teacher who knows how to handle kids." Harry smiled at her and focused on his task. Bella. Bellatrix Lestrange. Sirius' warning suddenly seemed more necessary now his teacher had mentionned her ancient friendships. What if… _Bella_, Harry thought, finally forcing himself to spit out the nickname, was among the attacking forces? Harry shrugged. He hated his teacher's twisted situation, and he hated being part of it. Nonetheless, he tried reassuring his teacher. "Just treat us like adults, you know. Well, maybe not the younger ones, but at least us… We'll help."

"Do you really think Dumbledore allows me to use you children as weapons?"

"Errrm… No?"

"No indeed," Thalia laughed. "I'll manage to figure out some defense strategy. I still pray I'll be joined by Flitwick…"

"Dumbledore didn't tell you with who you would be working?"

"No, he hasn't decide yet. When we learned the Death Eaters had arrived, four teachers were sent away to the common rooms to protect the students, then four more will arrive to help them, depending on Dumbledore's decision. The rest will stay with him to chase the Death Eaters away.

"You're not fighting?" Harry asked.

"Of course not, I… feel rather uncomfortable attacking, you know... them. Not all of them but… I simply don't know what would happen if I was to face Malfoy during the battle. Dumbledore doesn't thrust me on that point. Neither do I."

Harry sensed there was something more than this, only he had no time to obtain any confessions from his teacher. The common room was filled with students now, and Thalia had turned away from him to start counting. Harry stared at the Thin Ices, noticing with disappointment that Thalia had not brought with her the thinnest of these objects. He grumpily dragged himself to the center of the room, were all the students were assembled, sitting on the ground. He found a place between Ginny and a chair, and immediately reached it. He gave the young girl a wide grin as he sat on a thick rug. "Listen up everyone," called Thalia, and within seconds the room was silent, " I am sorry to announce that the castle is being attacked this very moment by a small group of Death Eaters." The group remained silent, none daring to speak, but fear was spread across the young faces. The small woman was tempting with little success to seem reassuring. "Do not worry, any of you, the school has the situation under control, and none of _you_ will be harmed." Harry noticed how she emphasized, unintentionally, the last _you_. It became clear that she hated standing before a pack of inactive kids that couldn't do anything to prevent the battle, nor any of it's consequences. He wondered for a second which names were on her mind. _Bella_ and Malfoy, or Dumbledore and the teachers. The young man could not guess the answer. It scared him more than a little.

"Rest assured, we shall be fine. The Dark Lord himself will not even be present during the battle." As she said so, she lifted her thin arms in the air, and the entire crowd saw, before it's eyes, a Dark Mark. Harry sighed. His teacher was terrible when trying to comfort. "I guess, errm, if any of you have questions…" Thalia proposed, and immediately a few hands raised, Hermione's reaching the air a full second before everyone else's. " Miss Granger?"

"I was wondering what was our defense plan?"

"I'll come to that in a second dear," Thalia replied, immediately pointing a young first grade.

"Are we going to fight?" he asked, his small voice trembling.

"Of course not darling. I will stay here the entire night in case any of our enemies get past the first lines of defense, assured by the teachers." Half a dozen hands fell, leaving only the raised arm of Fred Weasley, which was held straight, darted towards the sky. The boy was smiling. Thalia seemed reluctant to let him speak. "Fred… you never even ask a question in class. Do you really need to express yourself this very instant?"

"Of course I do."

"You will not worry the younger students?"

"Not more than your cute little tattoo and your mention of He-who-must-not-be-named already have."

"Alright," Thalia gave up, smiling at the criticism of her small speech.

"If I understood correctly, you will be sleeping with us?" he asked, still grinning, gesturing towards the students.

"Yes…" Thalia slowly admitted, sensing there was more to this question than she could see at the moment.

"Yes, you will…" Fred started.

"Yes I will be sleeping with… Oh Fred, grow up!" she shouted, finally understanding what the Weasley was trying to do.

"Oh please, Thally, I just want my galleon," the boy insisted, jubilant.

"I… Just… Don't call me Thally, in the first place," the woman said.

She then paused, taking a deep breath. "Alright, my dear, here it goes… Yes I will sleep with you. You have now won your bet in such an unfair way that I can't even describe, but I'm in such a hurry that I will let you win, here is your money," she spat out without stopping once, and throwing a golden galleon towards the red-head.

"_Now_, I would like all students in 5th, 6th or 7th grade to stand up and place themselves at the back of the room. Actually, no, please move towards the back wall, but then you may sit. I would like all the others to stand up, and to stay the closest possible to the center of the room." Harry got up and walked towards the collection of Thin Ices, reaching Ron and Hermione as he did so. They both sat down as the younger students stood up. "Perfect," Thalia continued, "could the boys please come to my right now, and the girls to the left?" The kids shifted rapidly, and soon they were divided in two distinct groups. "I would now appreciate if you could place yourselves in four lines, one for each grade, and all choose a friend in your grade," she continued as the students obeyed. "From now on, this person is part of you: you must follow her or him everywhere until I say you can stop. If you have to pee in the middle of the night, you bring this person with you, if we are evacuated, you stick to this person, is it clear enough?" They all nodded silently, clasping their partners, as if, like Thalia had said, they were part of them. "To finish, each couple of fourth grades will pair up with a couple of first grades. The second grades will pair up with the third grades. Each little group of four can now install themselves in a dorm, don't bother to take your own, just get your essentials and bunk in. From this point the oldest one in the group is in charge. You will teach a few defensive spells to the youngest ones, and you'll be in charge of communicating with me if there is any trouble. You can install yourselves now." The students jogged up the flight of stairs with a military discipline. No sound was heard for a little while, and then a few subtle cracks crackled in the air.

The second the last first grader rushed up the stairs, Thalia let herself fall on a couch, trembling furiously. The students could not sort out if she was conscious or not, and none dared to walk towards her, wondering if they were allowed to walk away from the wall. She finally lift up her head and muttered: "I hate being the figure of authority." A few students laughed, and suddenly the pack dispersed across the room, taking place on different chairs and couches, or simply on the ground. "How come?" Harry asked. He was under the impression Thalia would love being in a position of power. Thirst for control was a rather common characteristic of Death Eaters. "Because you have to pretend to be in charge and confident, and you can't show your emotions," she explained, still shaking. "Well… you've pathetically failed that aspect," tried Seamus, still resentful towards the comments his teacher had emitted, two nights before. His words did not affect Thalia, who burst into laughter. "You guys have passed the age where you think your teacher is a mythical creature that cannot be wrong," she giggled. "What makes you believe that?" asked a sixth grade. "How many of you think I'm a hundred years old?" she said. The students laughed. By now, Thalia had controlled the shudders that had taken possession of her spine. She continued, gaining confidence. "Is it so hard for you to imagine that I have a boyfriend, or that I don't have for sole purpose your education?"

Once again, the students chuckled, Thalia's question creating a bigger wave of agitation: all wanted to know who was the mysterious boyfriend she had referred to. Harry knew. He knew the others did not want to know. Fred and George approached the three friends, and Fred hit Harry with his elbow, winking. He jumped on the occasion. "Oh, darling, I asked you not to tell them!" he shout out. Thalia seemed at ease with the older students: she seemed to consider them, as Harry had recommended, like adults. She was simply chatting with the Gryffondors like she had been surrounded by old friends. She smiled at Fred's remark, and Harry saw a flash cross her eyes as she decided to play his game. "Well sweety, they wouldn't have guessed if you could have shut your trap for once."

"You're right, it's all my fault."

"Yes it is."

"Fine… Anyways, I guess now it's not worth pretending anymore."

Fred jumped on the couch Thalia was occupying, slowly approaching his mouth from hers, in an unnaturally slow motion. The woman smiled and pushed him away. "Do something stupid like that and the real one… well I don't believe it's necessary to explain what will happen if you anger him."

"How come, you don't feel like exposing gory details tonight?," Fred asked, sitting up besides her.

"Half this house believes I'm a sadistic murderer."

"And?"

"And I wouldn't want to loose the half that still believes I'm not so bad."

George finally broke the silence that had crept upon the room. "He couldn't attack him. We'd all discover who he truly is."

"Ah, dear friend, you seem to forget that regrettable accidents happen once in a while…"

"You're kidding right?"

The twins were starting to fear Thalia's threats were more than just laughs, which was what the rest of the students believed. They all giggled at Thalia's fake menacing expression, unaware of the true identity of the _real one_ in question. Harry did not doubt Snape would eliminate anyone standing between him and Thalia. The two Weasleys seemed to have finally understood this fact. "Of course I'm kidding," Thalia, reassured them, "you think I would really let that mindless, heartless man after you? Even though we'd have a model," she added, pointing at George, "I doubt we could ever manage to reconstruct you the same way you used to – YOU! GET AWAY FROM THOSE!"

Harry turned on the spot, surprised. Thalia was shouting at two seventh years who had approached the Thin Ices and the wooden easels that held them straight. They froze when their teacher strolled towards them, furious. "You two idiots! I knew I shouldn't have brought these with me," she half-shouted, half-muttered. "If any of you try approaching these, rest assured you will wish you had been locked outside the tower rather than in it." The two students shrunk back. Harry guessed they intended no harm, but were simply curious to examine these peculiar objects. He had to admit the idea had flashed across his mind… where it still lingered of course. Thalia sighed, and sat on the table with the mirrors. "Alright, ground rules. No one gets near the objects I will lay out on this table. You probably weren't aware of the mere existence of half of these, and there is a reason to that. Normally I would never get them out of my office, but Dumbledore asked me to keep watch so… Well anyways, don't touch them. On the other hand, you can still talk to me or to yourselves until the second teacher arrives, with Dumbledore's orders of course. Is it fine?"

The students nodded, and all walked away from the table Thalia had marked as her own. Suddenly, they did not mind staying away from these strange artifacts. As their teachers opened as large suitcase Harry had not noticed, the conversations reignited and soon the common room was exactly as it was supposed to be at such a time: filled the few, older students that continued their meaningless chatter to escape the obligation of homework. It was only about half an hour later, at nine o'clock exactly, that an intruder interrupted the magical instant of serenity.

He pursed his lips, stared at the audience of astonished students, and sneered. "Charming," he mumbled sartistically in his deep voice.


	14. Chapter 14

_It's the first time I publish a chapter so quickly. Only one week since my last publication, and already another one... But the truth is I've never written so much in such a short lapse of time. And, a little confession I'll share with you guys:_ _My prom dress is green, and every time I wear it I feel like a Slytherin. It makes me laugh so, so much. _

Thalia let out a roar of laughter, starring with clear astonishment at her fellow teacher. "This…" she stuttered, choking in her giggles, "is… really, really… funny!" Snape's grim expression indicated he, on the contrary, did not seem to find any amusement in this situation. " _Funny?_ Are you seriously telling me you appreciate this reunion?"

"Oh, appreciate, no, not at all," Thalia admitted, her furious laughs transforming into small chuckles, "but you have to admit this man is wicked smart."

"This man? The… Who… Who are you even talking about?" Snape shouted, annoyed.

The students were silent now, listening with great interest to this argument.

"Dumbledore of course, can't you see his plan?"

"The only possible issue of this… unhealthy night we will be forced to spend together is death. For all of us. Ha," he joked, "they chose the right setting, the blood won't show, all the furniture being red."

"No one will die, my dear," Thalia objected, calming down as her coworker starting slightly fidgeting.

"I wouldn't be so sure… We might manage to save the students, but keep acting like this and one of us is bound to leave this world."

"And which one, may I dare asking?" Thalia spat out, angry.

"Well in this state, me, but let me get a hold of myself and then we'll have a fair battle."

A spark of anger kindled Thalia's irises. She suddenly took out her wand and gave a violent jerk in Snape's direction. A green flash of light left the tip of the roughly carved wood and shot across the room, hitting Snape in the head. The man fell back loudly on one of the couches, motionless. The light had taken about half a second to cross the room, but to Harry it seemed that it took a full minute. He realized then that the flash of green was still imprinted on his retin, and that anywhere he looked, he could see the deadly spell. It did not surprise him. He could still see in his dreams the same green flash that had killed his parents fifteen years ago. What had happened only a minute ago must have marked him as badly. The students were pale, dazed. Harry was scared now. They all were.

Snape gently got up, swearing. "I hate it when you do that."

Thalia smiled gently. "You really needed it," she said as an excuse. The man let out a slow sigh. "I did. You still use this spell far too often."

"You need it far too often," Thalia pointed out. "You should really learn to relax by yourself."

"I could if you'd leave me the time."

"You know this is way more efficient."

"Yes, but it hurts."

Thalia gave out a small laugh. "I'm not kidding," Snape objected. "This was designed to use during combat on people who are nearly dying. Comfort was not taken in consideration."

"Alright, I'll stop," Thalia promised, looking like a five year-old giving up her favorite toy, but knowing she would steal it back in a day or two. "What are the orders?" she continued.

"They'll arrive in a minute or two," Snape explained.

"Of course they will," Thalia laughed. "Can't you see what Albus is doing?" she continued, seeing the man's puzzled expression. "He's locking up all the Gryffondors to make sure none of them will have the stupid idea of fighting against the enemy."

"And why are we here, then?" Snape added.

"Because," Thalia whispered in a mysterious tone, "we are also Gryffondors."

The Potions' Master seemed to choke on the words Thalia had uttered. He was livid, eyes wide open, his coal colored irises igniting in a furious flame.

"Explain. Now."

"I just said that to annoy you. But it's kinda true. He's scared I might run outside the tower to do anything stupid."

"Alright, so this explains why _you_ are with them. Why am _I_ stuck here? Maybe you are part-Gryffondor, but I follow my head, rather than any stupid impulsion. Why should I be in this tower?"

"In case you decide to pay a visit to old friends."

"That also applies to you."

"Exactly. But if we are angry at each other, we won't. We wouldn't leave the tower. Not alone."

"And…?"

"And therefore having both of us in here will keep the fight alive long enough for us to accept to lock ourselves in, and by the time we are reconciled, well… we'll only have a few square feet to be horribly vicious."

The tall man slouched his shoulders, defeated. "You think he'll order us to lock ourselves in?"

"Positive."

" And that's what were going to do?"

"Absolutely not," Thalia smiled.

The dark figure let out a burst of laughter. "You know I love you?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

Thalia smiled, as Snape bent forward and placed a delicate kiss on her lips.

The entire crowd gasped, as if one. Harry, on the other hand, felt sickened. Ron had adopted the same shade of green as Harry, and he slowly muttered: "I thought they had broken up for good." Snape pulled himslef away, eyes wide with panic. Apparently, he had forgotten he couldn't approach his loved-one in public. He tried speaking, but simply opened his mouth quickly, to shut it half a second later. Thalia, on the other hand, seemed at ease with the situation. She threw Snape a grave look, placing her arms around his waist, and then, slowly, as if testing his capacity of enduring her words, she answered Ron's question. "Yes, we were in a fight. But it seems we are back together." Harry looked around. Though the other Gryffondors bore rather surprised expressions, none of them appeared to be as nauseous as he was. Probably because he knew both of the teachers too well. He suddenly let out a small curse. Sirius had recommended he stay away from both of them. And now he would have to spend the entire night with both of them. On his right, Seamus gasped. "You two are _back_ together? As in were together all this time?"

"As in were together before the atoms constituting your body were even together," Snape replied.

"But… Isn't there a rule saying two teacher's can't… be together?" the student asked, full of hope. The boy was about to use another word than the generic expression _be together_, but the simple use of any other, more-appropriate word would have catapulted this impossible fact straight into reality. Consequently, _be together_ appeared to be an excellent option.

At that point, both teachers were sitting closely on the same small couch, Thalia half-sitting on the seat, half-sitting on Snape. At that remark, she giggled again. "Let's see… To stay together, he had to break, well, the school rules, as students, then the Dark Lord's rules, when we were both Death Eaters, then, simple common sense, when I left the group and a death sentence was place upon me, and now, now, honey," she said, focusing her attention on Snape, overemphasizing her dramatic expression, "we need to defy the Headmaster's rules." Snape laughed, and added: "You're right… I think this is the most perilous decision yet."

The students laughed slightly, and Thalia took control again, sitting up on the couch's large armrest. "So yes we _are together_, and you will have to accept this fact, but it stops there. We won't be traumatizing your innocent little minds." Harry tilted his head until his mouth was behind Ron's ear, and whispered: "Too late for that." This time the teachers did not understand his words, as Snape went on. "Speaking of silly minds… Where are the little ones?" he asked in surprise. "Upstairs, in groups of fours, taking care of each other."

"Nice one."

"Thank you. I'd still like to mention you're going to have to go check on them a few times this night."

"Don't send him up there!" pleaded George, "the poor kids are going to have nightmares."

The tense students finally let out their anguish and followed George in his mockery. "Who doesn't dream of being tucked in by a Death Eater," started Seamus.

"Good night, sleep tight…" Lee mumbled in a small, shy voice.

"Don't let my friends kill you!" Fred finished, shouting in a deep, angry voice.

"Are your sheets a little cold?" tried a young fifth grade student. "I can set fire to them."

"If you need anything, don't disturb me, I'll be planning your death."

"Don't open the window, alright, because if you do the toxic gas I have unleashed in your room will disperse and it won't be as lethal."

"Alright, enough!" Thalia cut short to these more and more tasteless jokes. "What are we to do then?" she honestly asked the students.

"You can go," Harry found himself proposing.

"On the "Death Eater" part, I'm as bad as Severus, I fear."

"Yeah but you're hot," explained Fred.

Silence overpowered the giggles. Snape took his wand out, and firmly grasped it in his long fingers. He then passed his arms around Thalia's waist, and pulled her back to him, encircling her, until his wand was placed in obviousness on her lap. "You have my answer," he stated.

Fred laughed. "What, I'm supposed to say she's ugly?"

"No," replied Snape, "you're supposed to shut up."

As soon as Snape finished his sentence, a roll of parchment emerged from the burning fire-place and landed on Thalia's lap, intact. She silently unrolled it, rapidly skimming through the text covering it entirely. "Lock ourselves up for twelve hours," she stated, sighing deeply. "I know I'd go mad." Snape nodded, accordingly, eyebrows frowned. He then addressed Thalia as if they had been alone. "What are we supposed to do, vote?"

"Why? We can just… not do it."

"No, I understand but… The kids have the right to be locked in if that's what they want to. Originally, that was the plan."

Thalia smiled slightly, and Harry was unable to distinguish Snape's expression, his head facing the ground. It became clear though that the two adults were softly whispering to each other. After a few silent minutes, Thalia spoke up. "Alright everybody. I think you understand what's happening. He have orders to lock all of us in the Gryffondor towers for twelve hours. Nothing will be able to enter it, so we would be entirely safe: nothing, absolutely nothing, - on that she gave out a small laugh, as if renewing with good memories - can break through this spell. Only, we couldn't go out before the spell runs out, not before tomorrow morning. Dumbledore wants us to be safe and we understand that, of course," she added rapidly, "only Sev… Professor Snape and I are uncomfortable with this idea, for many reasons, some personal, we will not hide it, and some perfectly logic. And we want to know what you think." She took a deep breath. Harry thought she probably hated the idea of having the decisions taken by others. Worst, by simple kids. Worst again, by Gryffondor students. He let out a small smile. He liked this form of revenge. Thalia gave them a few minutes of silence to make their decision, and all the students sank into their heads. Harry had no idea what to do. He, for one thing, did not care much about the issue of the vote. It was obvious to him that Dumbledore and the other teachers would never let any of their opponents approach them, and the boy was convinced of his safety. He also knew Snape and Thalia would never let the Gryffondors, and especially not Harry himself, leave the tower before the end of the battle. Hence, this decision would not influence his night the very least.

Only, he kept hearing Sirius' words running in his head… _you know who you can thrust, stick to them…_He still hadn't decided if his godfather wanted him to thrust the two teachers or not, but knowing the man as well as he did, he was almost certain that he would want him to stay away from them. In which case, which option was better? Following the teachers' idea, and going against Dumbledore's will? This was nonsense to Harry's ears. Only, the other option left was also far from brilliant: was it a wise to lock himself up with these two dubious characters with no possibility of escape? Harry found the vote arrived far too quickly. He was about to decide to restrain himself from expressing his opinion, being incapable of formulating one, when he realized doing so he would let the two teachers have their way. Another thing Sirius would hate. Harry let out a silent groan of anger towards his godfather. He would not vote, end of the internal discussion.

"Those in favor of…" Thalia started. "Wait. How much do we count for?" she asked, turning towards Snape. He seemed puzzled for a while. "I don't know… half?"

"No, then we count for too much… no need for a vote…"

"A third?"

"I guess so…" Thalia said hesitantly. A sixteen year old student cut her short. "You call that democracy? Seems you're not used to taking _fair_ decisions," he pointed out, his eyes locked on the two Dark Marks. Snape seemed absolutely furious, and the boy shrunk back slightly. "You ridiculous, idiot…" he began, cutting short to his chaplet of insults as the woman sitting next to him placed a hand on his knee. "You are right, the Dark Lord doesn't use a democratic system to take any decisions, but you sill have noticed that Dumbledore also uses a dictatorial system to give away orders. Right now, we are about to mutiny against the authority, which is not accepted in any of these cases. The fact that we add a democratic edge to this mutiny is pure generosity." The student swallowed loudly, understanding his mistake. Snape nevertheless pursued. "We understand you do not like the fact that we are marked with this," he spat out, gesturing towards his forearm, "but stop trying to rub it in. I can guarantee you none of your puerile remarks will add as little as an ounce of guilt to our consciences. So save your saliva."

Thalia seemed uneasy. "So… We'll deal with the importance of our vote later. For now, everyone please close your eyes." Snarls and chuckles were heard in the audience of students. A girl shouted out: "We've passed the age of being influenced by others." Thalia let out a bitter sound that slightly ressembled a laughter. "I thought you all had democracy tatooed on your heart… So those in favor of locking ourselves inside the tower, raise your hand." About a dozen hands lifted upwards. Harry observed with astonishment that most of his fellow students refused to stay inactive, or at least be obliged to stay inactive, in this fight – even Hermione. "Those in favor of…" continued Thalia. Before she had the time to finish her sentence, all the other students launched their hands in the air, some of them even standing up to emphasize their point. Thalia seemed happier now. " You must know that this means you will collaborate with us when will comme the time to lie to the Headmaster." The hands did not budge, and so Thalia declared: "Mutiny it is."


	15. Chapter 15

_I forgot the usual disclaimer, so here goes: Harry Potter and all the other characters and scenery found in any Harry Potter book aren't mine. I borrowed them :) Thalia, and the plot, are mine though. This applies to all past and future chapters. This one is one of my favorites. And, as usual, please review :)_

_Message #2: UAdding to my recent discovery of thrust vs. trust, is starring vs. staring. Working on it. _

Harry was sitting on the bare stones that composed the great staircase of the common room, Hermione and Ron by his side. Before his eyes was, ironically, the image of serenity. Though, with no doubt, a fierce battle was ragging outside the walls, the students were at ease with the situation. All were divided into little groups, some reading, some doing homework, others simply chatting in an near silence. The room was quiet, quieter than it had ever been during any regular school night. Harry sighed slightly. Even Fred and George were respecting this newly created haven. He turned to Hermione, who was frowning deeply, Sirius' letter in her hands. "That's the thing," she told Harry, tilting her head upwards, "we don't know who to trust. We _never_ knew who to trust," she added.

"Well, we know we can't trust the Death Eaters," Ron pointed out.

"Of course we can't, but Harry knows better than running outside the castle walls to face them! He doesn't need any warning relative to that. Why not add that He-who-must-not-be-named is also evil, in case we had forgotten," Hermione sarcastically spat out, frustration shooting into her veins. She had been analyzing the letter for a good half-hour, and now Harry guessed she saw the situation as a personal battle between her and the piece of paper. "No, it's something about these two," she continued, gesturing very evidently towards the two teachers, situated very near them. Harry rapidly grabbed Hermione's arm, and pulled it towards the ground, eying her meaningfully. "Oh yeah, forgot," she said, realizing the two in question could very easily understand they were talking about them. Hermione's eyed suddenly widened.

"That's it! We have to ask them what the letter means!" Both Harry and Ron jumped in surprise. "No, we don't," Ron indicated, ripping the letter out of her hands. It was too late. "Miss Beauregard!" loudly cried Hermione. Within seconds, the woman was by her side. "Yes my dear?"

"Could you please tell us what this is supposed to mean?" she asked, gesturing towards the letter Ron was pathetically trying to hide.

"Of course, what is it?" she asked, as she furiously attempted to grab it, Ron opposing a desperate resistance to her grip.

Hermione gave the boy a grave look and he finally let go of the letter, a thin smile drawing itself on his lips. Hermione stared at him, surprised, then turned her attention to her teacher. "It's a letter, and… to be honest we don't really understand it's meaning." Thalia was not listening to her anymore. She was focused on the numerous lines of unequal writing. Harry took the opportunity to shout at Hermione, well, mutter very angrily through his teeth in order to subscribe himself to the woman's attention. "You are ridiculous, why are you doing this?!"

"To help you, of course," she whispered back.

"No! What if the letter warned us to stay away from HER!" he hissed.

"Alright, alright. I want to understand this, that's it!" she finally conceded.

Harry rolled his eyes, and Hermione started justifying herself. "It's like a riddle, and you know I _need _to solve riddles. It has helped you many times, you know, like with the basilisc, I had understood what it was, or even in the Chamber of Secrets, I was the one to find which potion you had to drink, and also…"

Thalia coughed slightly, and Harry and Hermione realized they were inches away from each other, furiously whispering, anger spread all over their features. They backed away, and Hermione asked eagerly: "So?".

"Well," Thalia started, "I think he is right." She seemed uneasy, as if waiting for their approval. Puzzled, they waited. She finally burst. "You really want me to explain the content of this letter?"

"Well not explain, just, you know… Give us your opinion!"

"Alright…" she started, still staring at them with curious eyes, "I believe he is wrong on one point. The Russian team will never beat Canada. They have always won and will always win. Also…"

"Wait, what?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Sirius says the Russian team is unbeatable, which is ridiculous, they loose all their good players to Canada, and the Americans also, but the Canadians really dominate this game."

"What are you talking about?" Hermione exclaimed.

"Hockey!" Thalia answered, staring at them as if they were complete idiots, unable to grasp the obvious.

Harry was about ask for explanations when he saw Ron's wide eyes trying to get his attention. His hands were hidden behind his back, but for a second Harry caught a glimpse of the small piece of paper they held. He focused his attention on the letter Thalia held. It was only covered in blue writing. At its bottom, Harry could guess the paper had been ripped, but so well that it seemed intact. He smiled back at Ron. "Thank you, Mrs. Beauregard, we weren't too sure about it, we don't really follow hockey, and, er, his letter had confused us."

Harry was about to take back the piece of parchment when Thalia pulled it towards her, sighing. "Of course. Where's the rest of the letter?" she asked, staring intently at Harry.

"What… what rest of letter?"

"You don't have to show it to me, just, don't try to make me believe you wanted me to comment on _hockey_."

Hermione jerked forwards and fetched the letter in Rons' back. As she gave it to Thalia, Harry took it back, and, too make sure he would keep it, sat on it. Thalia sighed once again, and said: "It's Harry's letter, right?" They all nodded in agreement. "Then he will decide if I read it or not." They all turned to face him, and Harry had to make a decision within seconds. He took the letter in his hands, protected by their teacher's authority, and read it once again.

_Snape has warned me. Be carefull, you know who you can trust, stick to them. Don't take any personal initiatives. I don't like this at all. Protect your good old body – but also your mind._

So unclear. Maybe Sirius was warning him to stay away from Thalia, but even if such was the case, he would have to stay with her anyways. Whatever the letter meant, he couldn't change anything to his situation. He handed the letter to Thalia, who simply nodded. She read it, very quickly this time. When she looked up, she seemed annoyed. "I don't understand why he bothers saying this. Be careful, follow Dumbledore, don't go running out to save the world yourself."

"What about the part about the mind?" he asked, to intrigued to consider his teacher's feelings.

"I think he believes I'm trying to brainwash you into taking my side."

"Joining a Death Eater? That's ridiculous…"

"EX-Death Eater, EX!" Thalia shouted. "Why can't you understand the notion of quitting?! Anyways no, he believes I want you to become, well, neutral, that I'm encouraging you to turn back on your father and friends so I can have the Chosen One in my camp…"

There was a silence, and then Ron added: "Okay, _that_'s ridiculous."

Thalia laughed. "I know. Even I found it impossible when he said it. He only did it once, actually, probably drunk. Probably doesn't mean it …"

Her mind drifted away, and she stared blankly for a while, simply nodding her head. She turned to Snape, and by seconds he was by her side. "When did you tell Sirius about the invasion of Hogwarts?" she asked without any form of greeting.

"I don't really remember, last weekend I would think, why?"

"At that point we were still… happy, together, right?"

"Yeah, of course."

"So did you tell him we would probably guard a House together?"

"If I say yes, could you please tell me what this is all about?" he asked, getting impatient.

"I think this is for me," she said, no emotion in her voice, handing the parchment to Snape.

He read it in silence, taking an awful lot of time, and finally expressed himself. "What, you think this is provocation?" the man asked. Harry found Thalia's theory a little, well, impossible, and Snape seemed to share his opinion. Why would Sirius send _him_ a letter to protect Thalia knowing he probably avoided her at all costs. He also hated the idea of being the simple messenger, and was glad of seeing that Snape too seemed to worry for Thalia's mental balance. "You haven't slept in a while you know," he gently told her. "Neither have you," she replied defensively, "unless I have been spending my nights with an impostor. Can't you see it's addressed to me?"

"I know you're the only one here who likes hockey but I don't think it means anything…" Snape started. Thalia sighed. "Other letter," she mumbled, as Snape took the other piece of parchment and read it quickly, probably trying to earn forgiveness for diminishing Thalia. "Oh. Wow. It does seem as something he would tell you."

Thalia gave him a slightly superior look, that seemed to be squealing a sarcastic little "Oh really?!" to the teacher.

"How come?" Ron asked.

"He doesn't want me to go out there. He tells me to stay with who I can trust… It's like he wants to protect me from… some sort of new enemy. That would be sweet," she added distantly.

"And that's why it would be very improbable," Snape pointed out.

Thalia seemed to make sense of Snape's words and handed the letter back to Harry, with an apologetic smile. "I guess you can't always be the center of the universe," she told him. Harry guessed a small accusation under the autoderision contained in the words, and simply folded the letter to place it in his pocket, deciding that he would simply ask Sirius himself what it ment next time he would see him. Which was in exactly two days. He turned to face his friends. "What can I get you for Christmas?" he asked, hoping they would not realise this question came only 48 hours before the celebration in question.

* * *

Thalia stood up on the top of the shrieking shack, with a hockey puck in her twitching hands. "CANADA!" she shouted to Harry, who was sitting on the street facing the ramshackle house. Suddenly, Sirius appeared by his side. "RUSSIA!" he shouted back, waving a pair of ice skates in her direction. The sun was setting, and the sky was a blazing orange. "CANADA!" she shouted once again, and Sirius muttered to Harry: "She doesn't understand the code…" Suddenly, the woman violently threw the hockey puck towards Harry who duked in time not to receive it straight in the forehead. "She's panicking," stated Sirius. "Help me save her Harry!" Sirius walked away, placing the ice skates in Harry's hands. Thalia was now shaking wildly, approaching a fatal fall. Harry did not know what to do, and so he strated screaming in her direction. "SWITZERLAND! FRANCE! IRELAND!" Harry knew he had failed when Thalia jumped down the roof, taking an awfull lot of time falling down. The boy ran to save her, his arms extended forward, but only as she catched her, her head hit the ice skates and split open.

Harry woke up with a gasp. The first thing his hand found was Sirius' letter. Harry groaned deeply. Stupid letter. The more help he sought, the more complicated the puzzle became. He grabbed the piece of parchment and turned it into a compact ball he held tightly in his fist. From the corner of the eye he could see a fire burning. He opened his eyes wider. He was in the common room, fully clothed. He had fallen asleep on a cheap mattress, probably conjured by the two teachers. He scanned the room with a quick glance. All students were fast asleep, each of them resting on the same type of mattress, protected by a thin but extraordinarily warm sheet. He set his eyes back on the fire. He was going to burn the letter, and hopefully have dreamless night. It was ridiculous. The castle was under the attack of Death Eaters, and _hockey_ was what was troubling his sleep. Stupid muggles with their stupid games.

He got up, and walked towards the fire. All the sofas had been stacked up by the staircase in order to leave room for the matresses. None of the students had accepted to go and sleep in their respective rooms. All wanted to lend a hand if ever the common room was threatened. Hermione thought they did so because they felt guilty of putting the younger ones in a situation of possible danger by not accepting to lock themselves in. Only one couch remained, and it was covered with extra sheets. Harry carefully circled the couch and crouched before the roaring flammes. He read the letter once again, and threw it in the hearth of the chimney. He already knew it by heart anyways. The paper started consuming itself immediately, and Harry sat down, watching it, gaining some sort of therapeutic joy from seeing the object of his torment being burned away. When the last piece of the letter dissapeared from his sight, he sighed and let his head fall back, resting his sore neck on the couch. Only, his nape did not reach the soft fabric. Instead, it painfully hit a big lump, and a low voice let out an annoyed: "Ow." It was followed by an inexhaustible, high-pitched laughter. Harry jumped away from the couch as if it had been the devil itself, and watched with horror as the pile of sheets started moving. Thalia erupted from the shapeless mass, and smiled. "Can't find sleep?"

"No, I keep dreaming I kill you with a pair of ice skates."

Harry suddenly realised the sentence he had uttered souded absolutely terrible, but he did not have time to reformulate it, before another voice emerged from the couch. "I'm not sure that's very flattering for your mental health." Thalia affectionately patted the huge lump that probably constitued Snape's body, and explained: "It was his turn to sleep."

"Yes, and now you're ruining it. Not in a fun way."

"It's my turn in about five minutes anyways, so prepare yourself mentally."

"You had to ruin these last fives minutes, did you?"

Thalia kissed the lump, and pulled herself out of the sheets.

She walked away from the couch, and Harry followed her. Once they were far from Snape, she faced Harry.

"I think it's time you go to sleep now."

"Yeah, me too."

He did not intend on arguing with his teacher. Now the letter was gone, he was more than happy to return to a blissfull state of sleepiness. He lifted his thumb up with a smile, and without a word he returned to his matress, conveniently placed between Ron and Hermione. He tucked himself in the still warm hole that had kept his shape and shut his eyes. Only, sleep did not come. Though his eyes were blurred with fatigue, his brain was now seething with activity. He nevertheless lied still, hoping to enhance his chances of finding sleep. These chances were totally destroyed when he heard footsteps approaching his direction. A very audible whipser hit his ears. "So?" asked Snape's voice.

"So it's all clear. I think by tomorrow morning it'll be all over. They're still in here though. Tough guys."

"Yeah."

There was a moment of silence, and Harry was tempted open his eyes and peek, but he resigned himself. It was safer to keep them shut. What could he see anyways? Legs?

"Go back to sleep," Thalia offered. "I'll take a double-shift. Can't sleep anyways."

"After twenty or so years you think I'll believe _that_?"

Harry guessed Thalia had addressed Snape with one of her unique sad smiles.

"He's here, isn't he?" the man continued.

"Yeah," she replied with a sob.

"Don't go."

"I have to."

"No you don't."

"Are you joking? Of course I have to! I haven't seen him in so long, it would be cruel to keep him away from me any longer. I'm surprised you don't want to go see him yourself."

"No, Thalia…"

Harry heard a few steps, and he guessed Snape had shifted sideways to comfort Thalia and wrap his long arms around her small body.

"Listen, all I mean is..." he started, "I think this is what that dog was warning you about."

"Wh-what?"

"Don't take any initiatives, protect your mind? You have to admit you – _we_, we both change when we see him. I think he wanted to warn you. Don't go."

"Severus, that's ridiculous, how would he even know!" Thalia cried in such a high pitched tone that Harry was surprised nobody else had been awoken.

"I have no clue. But that's what he ment, I'm positive."

"I… I have to go. It's nature's way of doing things."

Another silence. Harry realised they were kissing. Ugh. Why did he have to realise _that_. Sound came back, Thalia exhaled deeply. "I love you," she whispered right before a regular sound – shoes hitting the ground – overwhelmed everything else. They slowly vibrated in the ground, sending a tingling sensation in Harry's body. Thalia was leaving. Not to see Malfoy, or Snape would have opposed to it. Voldemort? He wasn't supposed to be in Hogwarts that night. Harry was struggling to focus on his suppositions, but sleep had finally arrived, and his thoughs were drifting away. It wasn't Bellatrix, since it was a he. A he. Nature was pushing her towards that he. Probably some more green witch crap. Green witch, with green stuff. Just like Slytherin. Ha. It was in Thalia's blood to be a Slytherin. No, she was a Gryffondor, officially anyways. Right. Gryffondor. Red. Gryffondor. Oh yeah, and gold. Gold and red. Red and gold. Red and ghouls. Nasty ghouls.


	16. Chapter 16

_Only one thing to say: Thanks to those who put me on Alerts/favorites. It's reassuring._

When Harry woke up, he realized with surprise it was not yet morning. It was only about half an hour since he had been awaken by his strange dream. The sun was not to be seen behind the windows, but nevertheless a crowd of students was gathering by the fireplace. Harry got up. He lacked sleep, he knew it, but he wanted to see what intrigued so many of his comrades. He saw Ron was still sleeping deeply, but Hermione was not on her mattress. He felt the ground around him for his glasses, and placed them delicately on his nose. Suddenly, a smell so delicious hit his nostrils, he was surprised it hadn't awaken Ron. The boy walked to the small crowd and peeked between the heads. A huge box of food was standing on the small coffee table. He quickly grabbed Hermione's arm as she approached him. "Careful, Harry!" she cried as he almost threw her glass of pumpkin juice to the ground. "Sorry," he muttered. "Where did they get the food?"

"Apparently Thalia went out this night to get breakfast in the kitchen. Snape said she went back to try and get some more, but they're not sure she'll manage to."

Harry understood his friend was only reciting a message Snape had told her. He gave out a small laugh. "Well, I can see she went to he kitchen _once_, but I'm positive that's not where she is now."

"Why are you so sure?"

"Well obviously the food was a pretext to going outside the common room. Why else would she have left to get breakfast at around…" He stared at the clock. "… three in the morning?"

Hermione stopped eating half-way through her toast.

"Where is she?"

"She wanted to go see someone, apparently," Harry explained, happy to have put some sense into Hermione's mind.

"Voldemort?"

"That's what I thought."

They both paused, and the boy realized he was famished. Abandoning his friend, he walked up to the table, and picked up one of the twenty or so identical plates that garnished it. They all contained three toast, a bit of bacon or sausage, two eggs and a glass of pumpkin juice. Harry's stomach let out a small growl. Whatever were Thalia's real intentions, the boy was happy she had thought of using food as a cover. As he picked up a plate, he heard Snape loudly speak his name. He turned to face him. The teacher couldn't possibly prevent him from eating! Only, Harry saw that as his name was spoken aloud, it was magically crossed out from a small list that was beside the box. He smiled to himself. Only a list to track down who had eaten and who hadn't. He was starting to become paranoid. He walked back down to his mattress, were Hermione sat, patiently waiting for him. Taking a sip of pumpkin juice, he pursued his conversation as if it had simply been paused. " Yeah, I thought she was talking about Voldemort, when she said that, be he's not supposed to be here. And it can't be Malfoy, or else Snape wouldn't have agreed, and…"

"He agreed?" Hermione asked, cutting short to his list of suppositions.

"Yeah, an hour ago more or less. She said she saw _he_ was here – probably through these Thin ices things, you know. And Snape said it was fine if she wanted to see him. Well, he only said that in the end. He said it was wrong, that she would become weird after seeing him, but she said it was nature's way of doing things. Yeah, weird, eh?" he told Hermione.

"Harry you really have to stop eavesdropping!"

"Well, I couldn't sleep. And I don't do it that much, you know," he replied.

Hermione didn't seemed convinced but finally agreed to hear him. "Alright, and?"

"Well then I thought it might be Malfoy like I said, but Snape would have freaked out if that was the case, and then it couldn't be…"

"Why would Snape freak out?"

To Harry it seemed obvious. "Apparently Malfoy has had his eye on Thalia for a while, and Snape doesn't want her around him because of that."

"Why are you so aware of what is happening in their private life?" Hermione asked, her eyes guessing ahead she would not like the answer.

"Well… I heard it a while ago, when I was walking in a corridor…"

Hermione glared at him. "Of course, no, you don't eavesdrop at all!" she stated sarcastically.

"Do you want to know the story, or no?" he asked angrily.

"Alright, alright," Hermione replied, crossing her legs, and bending forward, intrigued. Apparently she did not like the idea of eavesdropping, but did not mind the results. "So who, then? One of her friends?" the girl asked.

"Well, that would make sense. Snape said he thought that Sirius' letter warned Thalia _not_ to go outside the castle walls. In that case, _protect your mind_ would be a way of saying… don't go back to them. That's it!" Harry exclaimed.

"What's it?" Hermione asked, who apparently hadn't followed Harry's train of thought.

"Snape said that when they met him – we assume it's a Death Eater – they became weird. It's like … they missed their old life, they didn't see as many reasons for switching sides as before. That is, if they actually are on our side."

"But… how could friends make the slaughter of innocents seem… acceptable."

"I… I don't know. But I'm positive that's it."

There was a silent, as Harry dove back into his reflections.

"Well then… how would Sirius know that?" Hermione pointed out.

"Uh. I don't know. Let's just ask her when she gets back."

Hermione let out a nervous laugh. "No Harry, you will ask her, alone. I don't like including myself in their lives that way. Especially since all we know was not intended to be known."

"It's not only their lives" Harry objected. "It concerns everyone in this battle. We need to know what side their on."

"We do know what side their one. Dumbledore is certain Snape is with us."

"Yeah… Well I'd like to be that certain."

On that grim thought, Ron woke up. "Do I smell eggs?"

***

Snape finally addressed the group of students that sat before him. "Now everyone is awaken and fed, it seems as though it might be interesting to update your knowledge of the actual situation. First, we are alive and will remain so. Secondly, the battle will be extremely long. Well, battle isn't quite appropriate. Hide and seek might describe the situation in a better way. There are only about five Death Eaters left in Hogwarts, and our only job is to catch them and throw them out. Still, the Headmaster insists we stay in the dormitories with you."

"Until when?" a student Harry was too tired to identify asked.

"Until they get what they want. Seeing we don't know what that is, I find myself in the impossibility of informing you."

The teenagers remained silent, and Snape pursued. " I know it's only about four in the morning, so you can go back to sleep if you wish so. The other ones can stay up, but make sure to stay quiet," he warned severely, observing a few Gryffondors with more ardor than others. About three quarters of the students got up and threw themselves back in their beds. Most of them didn't seem tired, but Harry guessed pretending to sleep was for them a way of avoiding Snape. He himself considered for a second the idea of throwing himself under his sheets, but decided in the end he would rather be shouted at than forced to return back into his head. He quickly saw that Ron was already snoring, but failed to find Hermione. She was not in her bed, and he could not catch sight of her anywhere in the circular room. Only, as he was looking for her, Fred and George entered his field of sight. They were waving frantically at him, asking Harry to join them. Unable to spot Hermione, he accepted, and soon was by their side.

"I am going to go mad," Fred whispered as he arrived.

"Why in the Lord's name are we stuck with _him_!" George added, throwing an assassin look in Snape's direction.

"He's not so bad when he's with Thally, but alone… Ugh!" Fred added.

"W… Why do you call her Thally?" was the only thing Harry could reply to such comments.

"Well, partly because "Thally" is a nice name, while I have a problem with "Thalia". It's kind of pretentious, while she isn't. Also, Thalia rhymes with Bella, and Narcissa, and all that crap," Fred explained as George nodded.

Suddenly, Hermione was by their side.

"Thalia was the Greek muse of acting and comedy, if I recall correctly," she pointed out.

Harry cut short to the twin's comments by letting out his frustration. "Where were you?"

Hermione waited a second or two before answering, probably weighing the pros and the cons of being honest. Finally, she told Harry what he believed was the truth. "Checking out the Thin Ices."

"Ooh. So?" Fred and George asked in unison, eyes wide with curiosity.

"The battle will be over within twelve hours at maximum. Past that point I have to worry about ink."

"Yeah. Of course. Ink," Fred repeated after Hermione, apparently disappointing by the news. He then turned to face his brother. "Why can't the Slytherins get him as supervisor? They love him!" he told his twin, finding his old subject of conversation much more fascinating than Hermione's comments.

"Dumbledore is probably scared he will create an army of pure-bloods and join the intruders," George snarled.

"Yeah. Still, it should be each teacher with their house. That way we would still get Thalia."

"Make sure you don't say that in front of her."

The comment came from behind the group of students, but the voice that had uttered it was recognizable between thousands. Harry saw Hermione shrink: she would rather die than have a teacher discover she had been insulting him in his back, and even Harry felt slightly uneasy. On the other hand, the twins did not seem at all indisposed by the subject of their conversation's presence. "And why is that?" George asked.

"Because the Thalia I know isn't a Gryffondor," Snape said.

"Yeah. And that's the Thalia we don't like."

"The Thalia I know is the one you also happen to know," Snape replied.

"Huh, no!"

Snape appeared to be impatient. "Did you meet Thalia when she was younger than seventeen or older than seventeen?"

"Guess," sarcastically replied Fred.

"Than we know the same Thalia. The one that chose to become a Slytherin."

George seemed to be amused by Snape's remark. Snape also seemed amused by the students' vain attempts to bring his girlfriend in their camp. It seemed that both believed the other couldn't win. "It's not where you choose to go, that determines what House you are in. It's what you truly are. Thalia might have changed House because she hated _one_ Gryffondor in particular, but in her soul she was a Gryffondor." Harry ignored the shy looks Hermione shot at him since Fred had mentioned that _one_ Gryffondor in question. It was easy to do. He couldn't be affected by the mention of his father, as he was busy going back in the past, until he finally saw inside his head the movie of his first night at Hogwarts. The Sorting Hat had said he was just like a Slytherin. And Harry had asked to become a Gryffondor. He had chosen his way into the noble House. Exactly what Thalia had did, in a way, though their paths were the opposite. He had chosen to be good. That was the important part. What you chose. The evil Thalia seemed to take a little more place in his mind now, overshadowing the nice one. She had _chosen_ evil.

Suddenly, Harry was convinced that Fred was wrong. He could only support Snape as he tried to put sense into the read-head's mind. "You idiot, it's what you choose that makes you good or not."

"No, it isn't," George replied.

"You consider yourself a pure, good, nice and perfect Gryffondor, right?" the teacher asked the young man with a slight abuse of sarcasm. Fred stared back, and this simple action constituted his sole answer.

"If tomorrow you were to join the ranks of the Dark Lord…"

"Which I would never do!"

"…would you still be good? The same way you used to be?"

The twins remained silent, realizing Snape had won. Harry had to admit his enemy was right, but he wouldn't let him savor this victory. He immediately addressed him, leaving him no time to prepare any degrading comment to throw to his friend.

"Okay, she followed the Slytherin ideology and took her first few steps on the path to becoming a Death Eater. But didn't she still, you know, wear the Gryffondor insignia, and sleep in this tower?" he asked.

"Of course not," Snape sneered. "She switched."

Harry had asked this question simply in order to occupy everyone's attention, and had not awaited such an intriguing answer. Suddenly, he longed to understand Thalia's peculiar "switch" of Houses.

"Switched? As in the school board transferred her to the Slytherin groups?"

Snape late out a laugh. "Like Thalia Beauregard needed any official approval…"

His eyes, that had drifted away for a few seconds, focused back on Harry. "She switched, as in she packed her stuff, placed her suitcases in my dormitory and spent every night from that point with me."

"And no one tried bringing her back to the Gryffondor tower?" Hermione inquired.

"She had spent most of her fifth and sixth grade in the Slytherin common room anyways…" Snape pointed out.

"Yeah, but that's… a huge revolution. I thought she ment she had switched, mentally. Not... actually changed Houses!"

Harry wondered how Hermione knew about this switch, but suddenly he remembered his DADA teachers mentioning it, the day before. Something about Slytherin making her turn sour.

Hermione continued. "Has a student ever challenged the Sorting Hat's decision that way, except her?"

"No," the teacher simply stated, seeming immensely proud of his girlfriend's gesture.

"But then how did she get away with it?!" Hermione exclaimed.

Snape chuckled, but Harry saw darkness still filled his eyes. "Thalia was raped by a school student, and the school board didn't even bother expelling the student in question. Do you really think any teacher could then be bold enough to stop her from doing anything she wanted?"

"But… her classes?"

"She followed us the entire time."

"And her robes?"

"She wore mine."

Harry fell silent as the others kept arguing. Thalia's idea was, indeed, a form of revolution. Crossing the line. Creating a new system to fit her way of life and her opinions. None of his friends had ever tried doing so, and none would, he knew it. As opposite to Thalia's, their world was either white or black. The line was clear between what was good and what was evil. The only spot of gray breaking the perfect symmetry of that painting had been Snape. On the other hand, Thalia's world was covered in different shades of gray, and she kept forcing her way through the line… that couldn't be straight seeing the number of times she had bent it for a reason or another. Harry focused his attention on Snape, who had just finished arguing with the twins, and was now entering a civilized conversation with Hermione. He could see only be sight they were still talked about Thalia. Apparently, Hermione hadn't gotten over the fact that Thalia's disrespect of rules. "And the tables?" she hammered, convinced of the weight of her argument. "She sat with us Slytherins!" Snape simply answered. The girl remained silent, and only spoke a moment later, when she had found another proof Thalia's switch couldn't be final. "And in the school records? On her NEWTS, in the school yearbook?"

Snape laughed slightly. "Smart kid. In these strange cases, she is considered as being in both houses."

That was too much to bare for Hermione. "Two?! She can't possibly in two houses! That's nonesense! What idiotic teacher would write such a thing?"

"I thought you would know this task does not require the assistance of a teacher…"

Hermione sighed. "I know, I'm aware that it's a magical system that determines that part… But don't teachers check the papers that are produced?"

"Of course they do. But they can't modify it, since they never need to. The system simply writes what is… true. And it is true that Thalia was in two houses."

Hermione's jaw dropped. It was the first time she had lost such an argument to, well, anyone. She mumble a low "But that's impossible…", only Harry could guess she had resigned. At that moment, they all heard the portrait of the Fat Lady slide sideways, and the low but definite sound of footsteps echoing inside the small passage leading to the common room. Snape faced Hermione. "I guess she'll explain better," he started. Only, as he turned to great Thalia, she simply stormed by, until she finally reached the girl's bathroom. Under the potion's master's wide eyes, she entered the small room, and shut the door behind her. Very few students had noticed her, and the few weren't aware of where she had come from. They didn't know who she had met, nor did they understand that this meeting could cause her to enter a certain state of shock. Harry knew, on the other hand, and could not help but wonder. He longed to know, it was that simple. He turned to face Snape, but all he could read on his features was painful sympathy. The sound of water hitting ceramic filled the boy's ear. The shower was on. Snape got to his feet, and Fred suddenly interposed himself. "You can't go…"

"Why not?" the teacher replied, impatient.

"Can't you hear the shower?"

Snape sighed deeply. "It would be Thalia's genre of turning the shower on to have an excuse to stay in the bathroom for a few minutes."

"And if she actually is taking a shower?"

This time, Snape's sigh was covered by a small, silent laughter. "She's been in my bed for fifteen years. Really think she'll mind?"

On that he left the small group and walked to the girl's bathroom. "That was a little rough," Fred pointed out in a whisper.

"Probably some form of revenge for your comments," Harry replied.

"Yeah, I guess it's the only thing he can rub in…" Fred replied as he stared at the teacher's back. Within seconds he was gone.


	17. Chapter 17

_Only one word (from this point on): REVIEW!_

When Thalia and Snape marched out of the small bathroom, Thalia's head resting on Snape's shoulder, the man's arm wrapped around her waist, they were surprised to find a different common room than the one they had left about half-an-hour before. The students, rather than split up in different small groups, had gathered on the ground, forming one huge, silent entity. The food was gone, the tables and couches were lined up by the wall, and Thalia's set of different divination artifacts was placed in the center of the circular room. Finally, holding a thin deck of cards was Albus Dumbledore. "I thought you didn't thrust your Tarot anymore," he pointed out. The couple froze about a meter before the old man, uncertain of what to do. Thalia finally decided to reply. "I understood what was wrong with it, and started using it more often. It's actually this very deck of cards that brought me here, in Hogwarts."

"I believe it is only one of the factors," Dumbledore added.

He smiled shortly and threw the cards on the table. The man then let out a small sigh, and addressed the teachers. "They could have been attacked, you know."

"You know they wouldn't," Thalia objected.

"We never know."

"In this case, we do."

Thalia was the only one speaking, and Harry observed Snape's face. Cold. Emotionless. He did not dare to speak before the Headmaster. In Dumbledore's eyes he could see reproach, and in Snape's, submission, hinted with fear. Harry could simply not understand: the woman was to be punished, not the man. Still, the boy could see Dumbledore was clearly angry with Snape. Only Snape. He kept conversing with Thalia. "I can see you have also decided to ignore my orders," he said, glancing at the unlocked entrance door. Thalia gave a small smile. "I never accepted being in any form of cage," she explained.

"And in the event of an attack?"

"Don't tell me you doubt our capacity to defend ourselves?" she replied, amused.

"You are not very effective when hidden in a bathroom."

On that remark she went silent. Harry saw guilt appear on her expression. Apparently she had not measured the consequences of her retreat. Strange fact, Snape did not dare to defend her. He remained silent. Terrified.

"I… I was in a strange…" Thalia started.

"I know," Dumbledore let out, interrupting her. "And I happen to understand."

A silent sigh formed itself on the woman's lips.

"That does not mean I agree," he continued, causing her old expression to appear on her features again. "I thought that having you two in a fight could push you to obey…" On that Thalia, and also Snape, though in a much more subtle way, grinned. "You gave us a common enemy. Just what we needed."

Hermione's breath hit Harry's neck. "Survival instinct," she whispered. "It's crazy. It's like they don't even know how to live in a normal society, only how to survive a dangerous situation." Harry nodded, pretending to have been aware of such a situation, but amazed by Hermione's capacity to analyze situations. "You two would gave a headache to any psychiatrist…" Dumbledore resumed, winking at Hermione. "But I'm afraid we'll have to split you up anyways. Snape, they're in the dungeons. You know those passages like the back of your hand. MacGonagall and Flitwick are waiting in the corridor." Harry saw the teacher's fingers curl into a small fist he kept hidden in the shadows of his long robes. As he nodded once in the Headmaster's direction, his knuckles whitened, but he nevertheless left the room within seconds. Dumbledore's features suddenly softened. "I'll send someone in to replace him as soon as I can," he told Miss. Beauregard.

"It's fine. The little ones are asleep. I can deal with teenagers." Harry saw a flash cross the room as they both shared what seemed to be a joke, and then the Headmaster left, addressing the students with a low "farewell". The room fell silent, Thalia approached the low coffee table, picked up the deck of cards Dumbledore had been holding and started shuffling them automatically, her eyes not seeing the world around her. Focused in the world inside her mind, Harry would have thought if it had not reminded him of Mrs. Trewlaney's class. Seconds later, Ron was by his side, followed by Hermione. "Hey," Harry told his friend, who simply didn't reply.

"He's angry that I woke him up," Hermione explained.

"It _is_ only four in the morning!" he complained.

"Yeah, well, apparently that's when all the fun happens."

The redhead starred wide-eyes at the people surrounding him. "That's what you call all the fun?"

"Actually, no, you just missed it," she replied.

"Because that was fun?" Harry objected.

"Of course! It's crazy trying to understand how their heads work."

"They _don't_ work, that's the secret. Why else would they be together," Ron joked with a cruel sneer.

Hermione chose to ignore him and continued for Harry's benefit. "Dumbledore is trying to stay on Thalia's good side, so he didn't dare complaining about her behavior."

"So then why is he angry at Snape?"

"You saw it too, eh? Well, I think he was supposed to stop her from leaving, and he didn't."

"And so Dumbledore didn't shout at Snape because…?"

"Because Thalia would know he's trying to control her. You heard her, she can't stand seeing her decisions taken by another. The cage thing…" she added as Harry frowned, clueless.

Harry was glad to see, once again, Hermione had not failed at understanding every little thing she could catch sight of. And Ron was not glad to hear his two friends converse about something he simply could not understand. "Where are Fred and George?"

***

"But you were, theoretically, a Gryffondor."

"I'm telling you, I was both!"

"But you can't be both!"

"I am well aware of that."

Thalia let out a small laugh as the twins gasped. A third voice then came from behind her. "How long was I alseep?" Ron asked in astonishment.

"I told you you missed all the fun," Hermione pointed out as she sat beside her teacher. "So speaking of Houses… you're going to have to explain to me how you survived being in two of them."

"She wasn't!" Fred objected.

Harry laughed. "Still trying to make her admit she was once a Gryffondor?" he asked with a smile, more for Ron's benefit than anything else.

"Yes, and she won't!" George answered.

"I never said that…" Thalia pointed out.

"Alright. My bad. Trying to make you understand you were _only_ a Gryffondor."

"And that is false."

Both the boys let out a cry of despair, and fell on their backs, heads tightly clasped in their hands. Hermione pushed George's head away from her lap, and took the lead in the conversation.

"So how long were you officially in the Gryffondor house. Meaning, did you take your classes with Gryffondors," she added as Thalia was about to speak.

"For six years and about a half."

"So from the beginning of your education, to…" Hermione hesitated.

"The incident," Thalia explained in her place, giving her a thankful smile for avoiding the subject.

"So you were a Gryffondor way longer?"

"Officially, yes."

Harry guessed here was something more to it. "But…?" he asked.

"But," Thalia said with a smile. "I was never really attached to my House. I didn't mind eating at other House's tables, or visiting other common rooms. That's how I found out I wasn't necessarily allowed to do so…"

"Ok. But you wore a Gryffondor insignia?" Hermione continued.

"Yes."

"Well then why did they give any importance to the few months during which you were a Slytherin?"

"Because they are the most important. When I did my NEWTS, at prom, when I got my diploma… I was with the Slytherins."

"But that was only for a few months," Fred tried objecting.

"Yeah. But that's how it is."

"Thalia, try understanding how ridiculous this is…" the boy continued.

"I understand how strange it can seem. Only, today I see that I am a Gryffondor in many ways, and at that time I was a pure Slytherin. I was both, anything else is simply false."

"Isn't today what matters?" Fred continued.

"How?"

The question, asked by George, caused silence in the small group. "How what?" Thalia finally burst, seeing no other sound would leave the boy's lips. "How did you get to a point where you are part of two Houses? Two Houses that hate and that have hated each other for thousands of years," he slowly stated. "How is it that you never felt any attachment to your original House, how is it that the Sorting Hat went so wrong that you couldn't find any friends of your own kind where he put you?" Harry stared intently at George. He seemed hurt, his eyes were gleaming with what seemed to be pain, and deception. Harry glimpsed at Fred: for once, the twin did not seem to know what was in his brother's mind.

"You blame the Sorting Hat?"

"Yes, I blame the Sorting Hat."

"Don't. It… it didn't go wrong. Destiny went wrong, or something ridiculously cliché like that. When the Sorting Hat was placed on my head, apparently it took a very long while to decide where I was to go. You know, Voldemort wasn't known yet. Slytherin didn't rhyme with enemy at that time. A big part of my family had been into Slytherin: my father was a pure blood, and so I was part of that huge family tree that includes more or less all of us. I didn't mind being a Slytherin. I didn't necessarily want to be a Gryffondor. My mother didn't want me to go to Hogwarts: she intended on teaching me magic herself, somewhere in the woods, like her mother had done. My father didn't want her to. My grand-father ,my mother's father, neither – he was a muggle-born, and he didn't really believe in ancestors. I guess you can see why. So when I got into Hogwarts, no one had told me about the Houses. I didn't care." Harry could understand too well how long the Hat's decision could have been. He remembered the hesitation in the Hat's words – and remembered how he had taken the decision himself in the end. If Thalia had given him no clue of what her heart desired, the sorting could have had taken hours. "Why did you end up with us, then?" Hermione asked in Goerge's place. "I never really found out. I was in the first ones to go, so he didn't have any of my friends to send me with. I guess he saw my cousins Molly and Arthur waving at me from the Gryffondor table."

"Your cousins with my parents?" Ron asked.

"No, not really. We just call each other cousins, because it's simpler. We're just… somehow related."

Harry looked at George once again. The pain was still there. Now he understood it. Betrayal. "So, you are sent into the Gryffondor house because of your family, and most you friends probably joined you, right?" the boy spat out, in a rather provocative way.

"Yeah, most of them," answered Thalia, having not guessed George's thought yet. "Regulus was already in Slytherin and Sirius was sent in Gryffondor, so they sort of canceled each other out. And then I had met Lupin and James in the train, so I was happy they joined. And Lily was with me, so I was glad."

"My mom and dad were friends in first grade?" Harry exclaimed.

"Erm, not, no at all. I was the link between them I guess…"

As Harry absorbed this information, George spoke again, his words sounding harsh, his throat, dry. "And so friends, family.. You spat on them to change sides."

Thalia's shoulders suddenly dropped. Her eyes were watery as she replied. "Oh George, don't take it that way. I loved your parents so, so much. But you know, they left Hogwarts when I was in third grade, I wasn't thinking about them when I changed. I switched out of anger, you know why, George."

"No. That's only when you officially changed. You were with the Slytherins long before."

"With them as much as with any other house."

"And why wasn't Gryffondor enough?" George shouted.

"It was never about replacing Gryffondor. I simply didn't see the walls between the houses. I followed the friends I had," Thalia whispered.

"You followed one in particular."

"Of course I followed him, I loved him."

"He didn't love you."

Thalia leaned back slightly when the words hit her like a bullet. She gasped and tears finally formed themselves in her eyes. She tightly clasped her arms around her elbows, forming a shield around her body, her nails carving into her flesh. She closed her eyelids. "I'm not going to try to comfort you if you try hurting me like this."

"I… I'm sorry," George muttered under Hermione's horrified stare. "All I meant was… You left the love you already had to run after the love you might get."

"What love are you talking about?" the teacher asked, curious.

"I heard there was a very hopeful student residing in your own House."

"Please, Sirius wanted to date any girl that was somewhat pretty."

"I'm not talking about Sirius."

"Your parents told you," she stated with a sad smile.

"Yes. And so I know that you turned your back on your kind to follow Snape."

"But I loved him! And seeing that years later I'm still by his side can only prove that point."

"Yes. You chose his side, and followed it."

"If things had not turned out this way, it might have been the one to drag him in my side, and not the opposite."

"Do you really believe such a lie?"

There was a silence. "No. But I did at that time."

"How did you even know Snape."

"It appears to be you already know the answer to the question."

Her answer took Geroge by surprise. "Erm… I actually don't."

"Huh. So you tortured me by accident then… I knew him through Lily. They were friends when they first arrived at Hogwarts."

Harry laughed at the irony. Lily introduced Snape to Thalia, and Thalia introduced James to Lily. Even funnier, there had once been a time were all of these people had lived closely together in some form of harmony.

"So you left Gryffondor."

"Before Snape. And even until seventh grade, I had friends in every House."

"But in the end you chose Slytherin."

"Yes. And no one can tell me my reason wasn't good enough."

"You think you had reasons to hate all Gryffondors."

Thalia smiled once again. "You're unfair. Today I realize I should have forgiven to a few. Lily, for instance. I was too late for that, sadly. But I had two days to take my decision. I didn't have time to analyze who was right, who was wrong. And I wasn't enough at peace in my mind to understand I had to forgive. They were all accomplices in a way though."

"Even Remus?"

"No, not Remus."

"Then why did you reject him like the others?"

"I never rejected his friendship. But I loved another one."

"You think exposing your relationship to his face while ignoring him was a way of accepting his friendship?"

"How do you know all this?"

"I… I heard it from my parents. When I was young. When you came back to him, probably right after you left He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's ranks. He had come home in the middle of the night and I was awoken when he left. They said Thalia Beauregard had switched sides again, I remember them saying your name clearly. I had to be about five, nothing more than that. It's one of my first memories. They said they were glad. That you had finally understood that werewolves were people, and Death Eater's weren't."

"Dear God. They thought I rejected him because of that?"

"Apparently, yes."

"That's not it. Not at all. Oh, George, do you mind if I tell them about this?"

"Er… Sort of?"

"I just… don't want them to keep believing I'm such a horrible person."

"It's fine them. I'll tell them."

"Thanks."

She addressed him a soft smile. The three other boys were silent, and Hermione simply gazed at the scene, glad to discover new pieces of the huge puzzle she was building in her mind. Harry was sure she would present it to him some day, when it was finished, just like she always had. He stared at his teacher. Why did he and his friends always end up meddling with such subjects. Around him students were talking about things of all sorts. Not betrayal, forgotten love and the eternal battle of good versus evil. He still had to admit he slightly enjoyed the conversation. Of course, he hated diving in such troubled matters, but he loved learning more about his parents and their friends, about the members of the Order of the Phoenix, about the world and its divisions just before Voldemort changed it all. It was frightening as well as fascinating. And so helpful.

"If you've known this for a while… Why are you only angry now?" Thalia asked, George's thirst for answers seeming finally quenched.

"Well… My parents had said that your return was a proof that you had been on our side the entire time. That you were good, that you had only been manipulated and angry. And that switching to Slytherin only had been a mistake you would regret your entire life. And," he said, choking on his saliva, "I just learned it wasn't true."

Thalia didn't reply, her absence of words forming a proof of guilt. She nevertheless stayed calm, as opposite to George who seemed very affected by Thalia's silent confession. She stared at her arm for while, and then spoke again. "You're good," she muttered, "remembering such a conversation. And associating it with all you know now."

"Yeah, I guess. Your name marked me in some way, the memory just came out when we first met."

"Good."

"Yeah."

Thalia stared at George's afflicted face, and at Fred's disappointed features. A small gasp, that resembled a sob, shook her for a second, but then it was gone. "Stop," she ordered. "You look so much like him."

On that she got up, whispered them "good night", and walked to the sole empty couch that rested by the fireplace. She let herself fall into the heavy cushions and closed her eyes, her head hidden by her hand, her thumb under her chin, fingers rested on her temples.


	18. Chapter 18

_Just in time as an appetizer for the next movie. _

Professor MacGonagall ran up the staircase at a speed no student could have guessed: though she seemed old and rather weak, it was only seconds later that she was facing the Fat Lady in her portrait. The corridor was filled with the oppressing nothingness of silence, and the teacher twitched nervously as the Fat Lady came to her senses, awaking from a nap. "Oh I'm so sorry", she apologized, yawning. "I was awake but then… well then I fell asleep…" she muttered to herself, digging deep inside her memory, searching for that flash of a moment during which her attention had failed and her mind had slipped into blindness. The professor did not take her comments in consideration, still twitching nervously before the portrait, twisting her wand in her long fingers. She finally spoke, a small flame of confidence shining in her eyes. "Cornucopia", she stated, her cheeks still white, her breath still regular, not at all affected by her run, nor by her apparent state of nervousness. The portrait swung open, and within seconds she was standing before her fellow teacher. Thalia was sitting on the ground, and she lift up her face to stare at her superior. Her wait was not long. Ms MacGonagall's line came out quickly, sounding already written. "It was a trap. They have Snape." Miss Beauregard jumped to her feet, ignoring the students that were sitting in a semi-circle around here, playing a muggle game very inappropriately called _werewolf_, and ran out the door, probably twice a fast as Miss MacGonagall had arrived. Harry suspected magic was involved in such a displacement. Within seconds, she was gone. The scene happened so quickly in comparison to the everlasting minutes that had stretched over the common house for the last hour that no student had time to react to it, either physically or mentally.

A sixth grader muttered: "Well then I guess it's game over."

"Hey!" complained Hermione. "I was finally the werewolf…"

"Get over it…" said the same teenager, standing up. He took a few steps, but was stopped in motion by a sound that had the power to immobilize any Hogwarts student.

"Where are you going, young man?" asked Miss MacGonagall.

"Downstairs… In the dungeons."

"And what gave you such an idea?"

"Simply following Th... Miss Beauregard."

Professor MacGonagall frowned, and shot an angry look at Harry and the grouping of members of the Order of the Phoenix, as if she attributed this habit of naming Thalia by her first name to them. Her assumption was probably right.

She set her attention back on the boy, who stood motionless in the middle of the circle of students.

"This castle is under attack, and so there is no reason for you to leave this common room. The fact that one of our best duelist has just been injured does not help your case. You are to stay here, inside these walls, where you are safe," she snapped.

The student sat back down. A girl that seemed to be his girlfriend softly patted his hand and suggested: "Why don't we play another round? I'll be the mayor…" As no one objected, she took the place Thalia was occupying seconds earlier. She lift her wand, and the small piece of parchment placed before everyone's lap slowly elevated itself from the ground. "No!" shouted Hermione. The crowd turned to face her. "I was the werewolf…" Ron sighed. "Alright then, let's continue this game. The day has come, bla bla bla, who do you think is the werewolf?" All hands lifted at once, pointing Hermione. She gasped, and folded her arms on her chest, resigned. She gave a flick of her wand and the small pieces of parchment went flying round, probably faster than necessary. When the "mayor" flicked her wand a few seconds later, they stopped and slowly fell to the students' feet. Hermione picked hers up, and snored. "Ugh. Villager," she mocked, apparently disappointed. Ron sighed. "So long for the suspense… Can the werewolf please kill her?" Ms MacGonagall sat down in a huge armchair that made her look skinnier than ever, and asked: "What is this game?" Hermione, too glad to exit such a horrible conversation, jumped to her teacher's rescue. "It's very simple. We all have a piece of paper which tells us who we are. There are villagers, who basically don't do anything, but hidden among them is a werewolf. Now every night…"

"Hum hum," coughed the "mayor". "Mind if we actually play?"

"Oh no, go on," replied Hermione, unable to detect the criticism in her friend's remark. "I'll just comment while it goes." The older student sighed, but nevertheless started narrating. "Our destinies are sealed. Let us now sleep, as the Gods treat us with another quiet night." Suddenly, by enchantment, the lights went down, and all students closed their eyes, holding them shut. "On this peaceful evening," continued the narrator, "the Gods have decide to grant us the gift of love. They have sent down Cupid, who possesses two magic arrows. Who does he chose to hit with them?" A small sound, barely a flutter, was heard within the circle, and then… "The two lovers have to protect themselves, because if one of them is killed, the other one will die of sorrow," Hermione whispered, far too loudly, at her teacher's intention. "Hey!" protested the other girl. "That's my part! And aren't you supposed to have your eyes closed?"

"My eyes are closed!"

"You're commenting blindly?"

"Of course."

A sigh was heard, followed by a feeble sound that seemed to be an insult, and the game was then pursued. "So, as you heard, bla bla bla, the lovers now discover themselves. You may open your eyes." A strangled giggle was heard, but it was quickly drowned under the narrator's story. "Oh please, lovers, try to be subtle… You can close your eyes. The werewolf then awakes. " On that Hermione opened her eyes. As Ms MacGonagall gasped, she slowly mouthed the words "I bluffed". She then turned to face the narrator, a huge smile on her face. The mayor did not seem to be as happy as Hermione as she indicated: "Who's life shall you steal to take with you in hell?"

Hermione hesitated a few seconds, and then pointed straight at Ron. As the narrator was about to nod, accepting her choice, the ashes in the fireplace suddenly turned into a flaming inferno. Shocked, all the students opened their eyes, in time to see Hermione's raised finger. "Hey! Why me?!" asked Ron. Before Hermione had time to formulate an answer, Ms MacGonagall was on her feet, a half burnt letter in her hands. Harry stared intently at it. The parchment had just escaped the flames of the fireplace. Somehow he felt it announced bad news. "Oh dear God," muttered Miss MacGonagall. "She was out of her mind!" She giggled a few seconds and then addressed the students: "The battle is over. The enemy has fled." Suddenly Fred and George were all over the place. "Hurray!" they chanted loudly, dancing around in the crowd, pushing many grumpy students around. Their teacher glared at them angrily, but they simply explained: "We've been stuck inside this horribly boring tower for hours now! Please forgive our energy!" As by enchantment, all the other students suddenly followed, and within seconds the tower seemed to small to contain a crowd of hyperactive teenagers. All laughed and shouted as the nervousness that had gnawed on their nerves for the entire night was evacuated. Resigned, the sole reasonable adult present in the room sat down and simply waited for the frenzy to extinguish itself. After a few minutes, it did, the students realizing they had very little sleep or food to sustain such intense activity. They all stopped, panting, and Fred, still finding energy somewhere hid deep inside his body, asked: "So, can we go to the dungeons now?" There was a silence, after which a small sound came. "No." A huge complaint hit the room like a wave, and retracted itself quickly. "Why do you want to go so badly?" the woman asked.

"Because, we stayed up all night in case something was to happen, we were ready to fight with her…" started a student.

"She never would have left you fight," MacGonagall pointed out.

"Maybe, but now it's over, can we at least go see what happened, ask for a narrative of the battle?" someone else asked.

After a pause, the teacher asked: "How long has it been since we received that letter?"

"About ten minutes."

"Alright then. Let's go."

***

When Ms MacGonagall entered the potions classroom, she was surprised to hear Thalia complain. "Dear God, not more visitors!" she exclaimed, as the oldest Gryffondor students joined the pack of Slytherin students that already filled the room. Miss MacGonagall kept shooting nervous glances at the crowd, looking for someone she apparently couldn't find. "Where is the teacher responsible for your safety?" she asked a random Slytherin student. "Oh, erm, Miss Sinistra said the black moon wouldn't favour, erm, her leaving of the, erm, hiding, or the hill… and anyways she said we could go if we wanted to!" As he saw his teacher's face turn to a shade of red approaching the one that represented her house, he ran away, his silhouette quickly lost in the mass of black uniforms. Most students seemed to consider this little trip to the dungeons as an excuse to go wild, but Harry and his friends cared enough about their teachers (or rather, were happy enough to see their side had won) to walk up to the front of the class, where Dumbledore and Thalia were standing. Harry could not see Snape, but moments later he saw his long body laid motionless on the ground. Dumbledore was already explaining the situation to the only few students who had enough curiosity and patience to listen to him.

"Seven, in total. Three fled rather quickly…"

"How come?"

"I was after them," he explained with a smile. "…but four of them managed to enter the dungeons," he continued as if nothing was.

"That's why you sent Snape," declared a Gryffondor, waiting for the confirmation of the Headmaster.

"Yes. That's why I sent Snape," the old man said, after a pause just long enough to make Harry doubt the sincerity of his answer. "Of course, I didn't know I sent him to face so many opponents," he added, honestly, this time.

"And then?" a Slytherin urged.

"And then he came down here and fought by Miss MacGonagall's side, of course."

"How was he injured?" a Gryffondor asked, the smile on his face just a tad to wide to be appropriate.

Snape's silhouette finally moved, and he slightly lifted his head towards the small group of teenagers. "Malfoy," he croaked. "Son of a… But my girlfriend scared him away!" he chanted with a horrible cough, bragging as a six year old would have. "I was so happy to see you attack him."

"Stop, you're being ridiculous," Thalia said.

"No, I'm serious. You attacked him, for me. That was great."

"It actually hurts me that you doubted that fact" she replied, giggling.

"And so after that," Dumbledore continued, drowning their murmurs with his deep voice, "we realized Thalia might be of use."

"Why only at that point?" a Slytherin asked.

To Harry, it was obvious. He stared at Ron, who stared back, incomprehension in his eyes. Hermione, catching sight of their silent exchange, elbowed Harry in the ribs. "You idiot," she whispered so softly even Harry had difficulty comprehending her words, "not everyone knows their dating. In fact, almost nobody does!" Harry let out an inaudible "Ah!" and focused his attention back on Dumbledore. "…friendship could have pushed her to attack other friends," Harry heard. "Good one," he thought.

"And so we sent Miss MacGonagall, and within seconds Miss Beauregard was here. And within seconds they were gone."

"You mean… you left Snape, injured and alone?" inquired a Slytherin, apparently worried for the head of his House.

"It paid off in the end. And he is still alive," the Headmaster pointed out.

He excused himself, and quickly marched towards the two teachers sitting on the bare, cold floor. Harry turned to Hermione. "Thanks for the reminder," he told Hermione.

"No problem. You know," she said, switching subjects, "I agree with Snape. I'm glad to see Thalia has attacked Malfoy."

"Yeah, it's reassuring. At least you know she's on whatever side Snape is," Ron added.

"All we need to find out now is on what side Snape stands," Harry laughed.

The small group laughed.

"Man could I use some sleep," Ron said.

"Then go upstairs to sleep," Hermione offered.

"Hell no! I'm not missing a word of Thalia's tale!"

Harry laughed.

"No, we should go to sleep," Hermione continued, "or we'll be dead tired in classes tomorrow… well, this morning."

"Come on," Harry objected, "you really think we'll have classes? It'll be a day off. It's rather cool, actually, that way we can say goodbye to everyone before leaving for the Burrow. Oh, wait no, at the Order Head Quarters."

"Don't tell me you miss the Christmases you spent in Hogwarts?!" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Of course not. Still… It would be nice to relax all together one last time."

"And talk to Thalia before we leave," Ron added.

"She's not celebrating with us?" Harry said.

"Nan. My mom offered, but apparently she'll be spending her vacations in some nordic regions. Dumbledore wasn't too happy about that…"

"Why not?" Hermione continued.

"North means, well, dark. Remember Durmstrang? Yeah. And it could also be a cover up for a visit to the Malfoy mansion. Well, that option is gone, now…"

As his friends spoke, Harry twisted his neck to stare at Dumbledore, at first to make sure he couldn't catch a word of their conversation, then simply out of curiosity. He was knelled over Snape, as Thalia enumerated an apparently never-ending list of ingredients she wanted him to fetch her. He then left, and the couple was left alone. Thalia placed her hands on Snape's body, apparently searching for the different injuries he might have, the man grimacing every time she found a new one. After a little while, she brought her hands to her waist and firmly grabbed her wand. A few spells had time to shoot out of it's end, but suddenly, Snape stopped her. Whatever he was telling Thalia did not make her happy, as she was frowning deeply. After a few seconds of silence, she finally shrugged her shoulders and gave out an awkward smile. Snape smiled back, sincerely. Within seconds, Thalia's wand was placed on the man's forehead, in a not very delicate way. Dumbledore threw himself beside Thalia, and Harry quickly walked up to them. His two friends, who had been observing the scene since they had notice Harry was, were by his side in seconds. "This isn't Snape," Thalia said.

"Baby you're ridiculous!" Snape replied, his voice hoarse.

"You haven't called me _baby_ in years. You know I hate it," Thalia answered.

"And right now you deserve being called that way. You are out of your mind!"

"What makes you think so?" Dumbledore asked, diplomatic.

"He didn't recognize my smile…" the woman started.

"You're going to let me die for a smile?!" Snape exclaimed.

"… and he refuses that I heal him."

"Seeing you're tired enough to think I'm not myself…" Snape pointed out.

"I hadn't mentioned that fact when you refused."

Hermione stepped in. "How would refusing to be healed your way be any proof that this is in fact not Snape?"

"The spell I usually uses erases any alteration magic has recently made to one's body… including potions," Thalia explained.

"So?"

"Well it's incredibly effective, and Snape knows that. So the only reasons why _this person,_"she said, seeming disgusted, "would refuse to get healed is that such a person doesn't want the effect of a certain potion or spell to be erased."

Harry didn't focus on Thalia's words, but rather on Snape's face – if it really was Snape. His attention was drawn to the man's disgusted expression. As he stared at Hermione, his eyes were filled with hate. "Why do you stare at her that way?" he let out, interrupting his teachers. "She's trying to defend you!" Harry saw something click in Thalia's mind. Suddenly in her hand was gleaming a knife, now clean of any speck of Harry's blood.

"You better make this knife disappear," Dumbledore ordered, fulminating.

"Not today Albus. Fetch me Malfoy. Junior."


	19. Chapter 19

_Bits and pieces. For those waiting for explanations, they arrive next chapter.  
_

"Looks as though the Thin Ices were sending simple messages, after all. Snape could have hurt me in a very direct way," Thalia said as silence fell in the crowded potions room. When Dumbledore had walked up to Draco and grabbed him by the arm, to then drag him down to the front of the class, all conversations had ended, and all the stares had begun. "Snape's was accurate to. We would both hurt him. Me by staying passive as you took his place, and you by…" She feel silent, horror written all over her features. "Where is he?"

"You are out of your mind!" Snape complained.

"Shut up Lucius. I have your son," Thalia replied coldly. There was a silence.

"You can't do anything to him," Snape replied. His voice was now clear and strong. Malfoy had stopped acting.

"You've put yourself between me and Severus. I give myself the right to do anything."

She stopped talking, and for a while simply focused on the body that laid before her. Harry could almost see the ton of ideas she was organizing flipping in her pupils. After a very short while, she spoke again. "Who's body do you want to be in when it happens?" she asked Malfoy. The man refused to answer. She lifted her hand, facing Dumbledore. "Give me the boy."

"Malfoy is right. You can't do anything to him."

"You know I won't. Now toss him over."

Harry could see Draco was not pleased by the idea of being _tossed_ into the angry, and possibly deadly, hands of his teacher. He wouldn't budge. "Fine, stay there then," she said, turning back to her prey. She hit him with her wand, directly on his forehead, and a green fog-like halo wrapped itself around the man. From it's center has glowing a blue light. Seconds later, the blue light faded away, and the fog immediately entered Lucius' body – as it was now Lucius that was lying on the bare ground of Hogwarts' dungeons.

"And now you've just healed me," he said with a grin, sitting up. He let out a loud gasp of pain as Thalia stuck her knife into his forearm. "I'll manage to injure you again," she said with a sarcastic smile. A second gasp followed shortly. "Bella taught me this," she explained to Lucius as Dumbledore was about to speak. "Don't worry, I'll stop," she said in the Headmaster's direction. "And I guarantee you no spell will manage to heal these cuts," she then told Malfoy.

"Now, where is Snape." Once again, she only faced silence. "What in the Devil's name are you waiting for?! I've already discovered your little plan, what are you hanging on to!?" she burst out in frustration.

"You think you understood the whole thing?"

"Yes. You and a few colleges came here on your own hoping to find out what side Snape stood on. And you thought taking Snape's place would be a good way of finding out while treating yourself a little fun on the way."

Another gasp. "Miss Beauregard, you must understand that you're presence in this castle as a teacher entitles you to respect a few basic rules, such as the one that states you are not to, how say, kill anyone," Dumbledore objected.

"The knife slipped."

Malfoy finally abandoned, bleeding heavily but still rather in shape. He pointed out the teacher's desk with his one good arm. Thalia threw herself on it as the injured fell back to the ground. Harry stared at the scene. Thalia didn't intend on hurting Draco, she just wanted to humiliate both, father and son. And Harry knew the cuts she had inflicted Lucius – though they were incredibly deep – were only a small warning compared to what she could have done. It was Lucius' reason that pushed him to admit Snape's emplacement, not the pain. Thalia was right. She had uncovered his plan.

A loud thud echoed through the room as the woman hit the desk Malfoy had pointed earlier. Again and again, she kept hitting it with her bare fists. Miss MacGonagll quickly ran to her side.

"Stop, you'll only drive him mad if he's actually in there," she told Thalia.

"But that's how you open the desk!" she pointed out. "I just can't find the right spot…" As she said so, she hammered her fist on the top drawer of the desk. It opened like, well, magic. As she gazed into the open drawer, Thalia's eyes widened with shock, and filled with tears. She sat on the border of the drawer, swung her two legs in it, and jumped into the cavity, disappearing completely. Apparently, it had been magically modified. Miss MacGonagall peaked into the dark hole. "Oh dear God," she muttered softly. She moved backwards, just in time to avoid Snape's floating body, which was emerging from the drawer. In a far worst shape than Malfoy's, even as he was injured. Blood was dripping from his slightly opened mouth, and from his nose. He was as pale as ever, and his white color contrasted in a horrid way with the bruises that covered his body. He fell gently to the ground as Thalia climbed out of the drawer. She bent over Snape, her wand in hand, asking Miss MacGonagall to fetch her a quantity of potion supplies. The scene was an exact copy of the one Harry had witnessed before, only more dramatic, seeing the severity of Snape's condition. When Miss MacGonagall left her side, Thalia spoke. "Get him out, Albus. Get him out or I'll smash his blond head on the stone ground," she cried, her words drowned by her tears. "I…" Malfoy started before the Headmaster had time to approach him. "Shut up!" Thalia shouted. "Are you aware of what you've just done? You've destroyed ten, no, fifteen years of hidding, lying, disobeying orders, putting our lives in danger, being tortured in order to see each other and keep contact, so we could step over the barriers war had mounted everywhere around us in order to keep our friendship alive. And you've just destroyed that, because of sheer paranoia and a stupid teenage crush!" Thalia's voice broke, and so she paused for a second, but immediately after she was shouting with more ardour. "You would have never found out what side Snape is. He has no sides. And you've destroyed everything, the fragile balance we had managed to keep alive, feeding it with pain and blood. Get out of my sight."

***

"It was an error to let him go," Thalia let out softly.

"No, Albus is right," Snape objected in an even softer voice.

The two teachers were in the Headmaster's office, along with the three other Heads of Houses, and a few members of the Order: Kingsley and Mister Weasley. Dumbledore spoke. "Voldemort will punish him enough for such a treason. He and the three others that infiltrated themselves into the dungeons took the initiative of the attack on their own. I doubt he'll ever be assigned to a task again."

"I could have punished him well enough," Thalia pointed out.

"Yes, but this way, Snape can pretend he subtly pledged in Malfoy's favor," Kingsley explained, "and therefore protect our cover."

The crowd fell silent. Thalia and Snape seemed slightly worried, but still rather at ease. The news did not seem to affect them so badly. As the woman had said earlier, the battle had simply provided them with a common enemy, a spot so dark that beside it they seemed to be the exact same color. It was all that could possibly matter to them. The others were far more worried though. Miss MacGonagall spoke her mind. "Headmaster," she started, uneasy, "I believe that this… situation, might still pose a problem. Hogwarts, but mostly its students, cannot be used as a shield to protect these two from their past."

"You are right, Minerva, as always," Dumbledore replied, "but I believe that such a battle will not take place a second time this year. Voldemort has already brought too much attention to himself to dare make a second move."

"And what will we tell the students' parents?" a teacher asked.

"Mostly the truth. The last little part, though, I'm not sure about. But do not worry, I will not try hiding my actions or mistakes."

"And what do we do about Draco?"

"I'm unsure. I'm open to suggestions, actually," he admitted with a sly smile.

No one dared to speak, nor had any idea in mind. The gathering therefore ended immediately. Mister Weasley asked Dumbledore: "Do you mind if I invite Molly over? That way we could gather up the entire family before leaving."

"No problem Arthur," Dumbledore smiled, guiding the man towards the grand wood door that guarded his office. Kinglsey followed immediately, bowing slightly before Dumbledore before exiting. "I'll call Miss Pomfrey for you, Snape," Miss MacGonagall said, quickly scribbling on a parchment she then threw in the fireplace. Snape nodded, thanking her. "Go in your apartments to rest," he then ordered Thalia.

"I can stay up with you," she reassured him.

"You'll only watch me sleep, my mind knocked out by whatever the nurse forces me to swallow."

"It'll be beautiful enough to keep me awake."

"Why is it that now you start fearing you'll lose me."

"Huh," Thalia laughed bitterly, "you didn't see that horrible picture of your carcass lying in a pool –"

"A pool?"

"Okay, maybe a puddle of blood. It's just…. If I wake you up in the middle of the night shouting at the top of my lungs these next days, don't wonder what I'm dreaming about."

"Still… you saw me half dead before."

"Yeah. But at that time I had the confidence of young age."

"And…?" Snape continued.

"And," Thalia added, smiling, glad to see he could still decipher her words, "at that time being on neither side meant having friends everywhere."

"And now?"

"It means enemies everywhere."

"It hurt that bad?"

Thalia suddenly burst into tears. Miss MacGonagall was quickly by her side, but seemed uneasy. She stared at Snape, pleading with her eyes for any indication of what to do to solace her. He simply nodded, and she walked away. "Shouldn't Miss Pomfrey be ready by now?" he asked. Dumbledore replied with a soft "yes", and Snape nodded back, grateful. He got up, and escorted Thalia out the door, though she walked steady steps as he was limping more than slightly.

"Strange how what Voldemort had planned as a friendly visit ended with two injured men," Dumbledore stated, watching Snape as he marched down the stairs.

"A stroke of bad luck," Miss MacGongall commented.

"No," Dumbledore objected. "We should consider ourselves lucky that Malfoy was stupid enough to take Snape's place."

"How come?"

"At least he has angered Thalia."

"How is that good?"

"I believe the Dark Lord wants her back in his orders."

***

The next day, Harry and his classmates were treated with a free day: activities were organized in a few classes, and the Great Hall was transformed into a recess area, seeing the frozen state of the school grounds. Still, none of the rooms were as crowded as the infirmary, the pettiness of the room emphasizing the lack of any free space. The main attraction was Snape, though the reasons that pushed the students to pay him a visit differed grandly from crowd to crowd. At first it had been the teachers who had assembled around his bed, joining Thalia who had spent the night by the injured's bedside. They had discussed of the battle, mostly, though the event certainly did not deserve such a name. Then had followed the very eager and curious students that wanted to hear the rundown of the night, and then the rather eager and curious students, and then the mildly eager and curious students, and so on until the infirmary was filled with people who were simply there because they had nothing else to do. Harry and his two friends had dropped by as such a group nonchalantly chatted with the two "heroes". "For people who are here for no reason," Ron had pointed out, "they sure talk a lot." Uneasy, the friends had left, to come back around mid-day. It was an error. At that point, the room was filled with a gang of Slytherins – the most Slytherin-esque Slytherins that were. In other words, the ones most bound to display a Dark Mark in a year or so. Oppressed in a thick and surreal atmosphere of awkwardness, they simply talked, trying to figure out on which side their teachers rested after the confrontation, to the great displeasure of the two teachers in question: apparently the idea of clarifying any part of their situation was highly repulsive to them. Hermione, on the other hand, interpreted their silence in another way. "They either can't tell the Slytherins that they're not with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named anymore, by fear of having them hate them, or they're still on his side… or rather," she corrected herself, "they at least still have friends on his side, but don't dare saying so inside the school walls."

"I think it's the second option" Ron had said.

"If it is, they are ridiculous. Malfoy almost killed Snape!"

Their whispers had brought attention upon them, and so feeling rather out of place, the three Gryffondors had left once again. It was now four o' clock, and the students were convinced that each and every student that could possibly be interested by the subject of the battle had already passed by the infirmary. They were wrong.

"So are you two married?" a shrill, high pitched voice asked. The question was followed by a salvo of overexcited giggles. "Oh dear God, you must be kidding," Hermione sighed, annoyed. They walked in. The room was jam-packed with girls. Only girls. "They dishonor the women that fight for respect around this world," Hermione let out in a groan, drawing to herself a bit of attention, and so as a few hateful glances. "No, we aren't married," Thalia replied calmly, silencing the girls.

"Oh, you should get married here!" a voice very similar to the first one let out. It was once again followed by a few cries.

"It would be so nice in the summer! Right after the end of the exams, by the lake," another high-pitched voice said. It was impressive how they all sounded the same.

Harry heard Snape cough, and guessed he had probably just choked. "Ironic how after surviving the assault of a Death Eater, he might end up being killed by a group of mindless teenage girls," Harry thought. The boy nevertheless had to admit that the idea of getting married on the school grounds in front of Hogwarts students was probably so unbearable to Snape that bringing it to life would be simply inhuman. Luckilly, Thalia managed to refuse the proposition the student had suggested without evoking the passionate hate Snape dedicated to the school. "Snape and I have some difficulty with the idea of… official contracts," she began. Harry could guess she was smiling. She pursued. "We don't really like the idea of setting things in stone. Immutability has caused many problems on this earth, whereas having the freedom to have no sides or many sides at once has saved our lives more than once." The girls were puzzled. "So… you're one of those weird… open couples?"

Thalia laughed loudly. "No, not a all. We only apply this philosophy in, well, every other aspect of our life than this one. The idea of applying it to our, erm, lets say love life, is probably a simple reflex, or a habit."

Harry couldn't say if the others understood Thalia's words, but he for one thing was sure he did. He smiled. These two were the only ones he knew that were proud to be two-faced. A small cough came from behind the wall formed by the backs of the girls, and a voice followed. "If you don't mind, ladies, I think Sev might need a bit of sleep…" The all nodded with much vigor and left immediately, whispering to each other.

"Sev, that's _so_ adorable."

"I didn't know Snape could get himself such a girl."

"Do you see how romantic it is, they saved each others lives last night!"

Hermione let out a small "pathetic" just as Snape did so too. There was a small awkward silence. "Were you serious," Harry inquired, "about the sleeping, or did you just want to chase them away?"

"Just wanted to get rid of them," Thalia replied as Snape rolled his eyes.

"Great then."

There was another silence. Thalia held Snape's hand in hers, sitting cross-legged on a small chair by his bed. "So, erm, we mostly came over to thank you two for the protection, and the… not locking ourselves in the tower," Ron let out, seeing his two friends simply wouldn't speak.

"Ah, no problem. It was mostly for… anyways, it's fine."

"And we hope you get well soon, Professor Snape," Hermione added with a smile. He smiled back. Harry has astonished to see he was physically able to do so. "He's being transferred at St-Mungos tomorrow," Thalia explained. "We don't really know what he has. Hopefully they will."

"Speaking of which," a voice said, "we might be able to help." Mr and Mrs Weasley stepped into the room. "We aren't bothering, aren't we? When we saw the group of girls leave we assumed all the students had gone…"

"It's fine Arthur," Thalia reassured him.

"Hey, how come the students know about you two?" Harry asked, his curiosity cutting short to the conversation that was installing itself between the adults.

"Oh, after what the Gryffondors and Slytherins saw last night in the dungeons… we realized it was ridiculous trying to hide the relationship. Plus, I couldn't have let Snape die (Snape coughed) _sleep_" she corrected, "here alone all night just to keep a secret hidden. So yeah. Now they know," Thalia announced, her features resembling those of an innocent unjustly sentenced to death.

Suddenly, Dumbledore's head popped into the doorway. "Harry," he asked, "might I speak to you for a minute?"

"Oh, Albus, we were just about to leave…" Mrs Weasley pointed out.

"It's alright Molly. He'll arrive at the Headquarters safe and sound, this evening. I simply want to talk to him beforehand."

Mrs Weasley nodded, and Harry left the room, bidding everyone goodbye, and wishing Snape and Thalia a merry Christmas.

"Such wishes were useless, Harry," Dumbledore told him as they left the infirmary, walking down different corridors "as they both will be spending Christmas with us."

"How come?"

"The Headquarters are closer to St-Mungos than Thalia's residence. She will therefore accept the offer Molly is doing at this very instant."

"Oh…" Harry simply let out, finally understanding.

"I see the news does not bother you."

"No… I've managed to get along with Thalia lately. More than I thought I possibly could, actually."

"Great then." The Headmaster stopped in front of his office. "Shall we step in?"

_Starting to despair, just a bit... Comments, anyone? I've just finished my 27th chapter, and my 28th chapter, still a white page, is now staring blindly at me - and I don't know if I should fill it up with words. Meh, I guess I will_.


	20. Chapter 20

_This segment requires that you have your Snape/Lily history fresh in mind. Seeing that you're a member of this site you probably can recite the lines referring to them off by heart, but if you don't really remember, it might be a good idea to take out your books…_

"What I'm going to tell you I'm not sure you're ready to hear. So I want to give you the choice to hear it or not. You know, there is a limit to the quantity of information a single head can contain, and I believe this you deserve to know. And the fact that you know such information might also help the determine the issue of the war."

Dumbledore's traits were grave, serious. Harry knew he was not kidding. He also guessed that the information he would be given would concern Thalia and Snape and his father. Which made him not want to hear a word of it. But seeing Dumbledore rag on about knowing, and knowing and knowing again made him want to know so badly. He hated being held in ignorance, and he thought that Dumbledore might have used this distinctive trait of his to push him to say yes.

"Yes," he therefore said. "I'm ready to know."

"Alright," the Headmaster replied, smiling.

"When you asked why I invited Miss Beauregard to teach in this school, I didn't give out the answer in it's totality. I chose to deny certain parts of it because I thought, at that time, that such information you didn't need to hear about. I realize now I was wrong. So, here is the answer I should have given out two days ago. I brought Thalia here hoping that if she managed to find herself a knew family on our side, she might refuse to go back to… the other side."

"Join Voldemort again?"

"Yes." The old man smiled. "I'm glad to see you can still talk about what you fear. It seems as though I'm losing this capacity."

Harry gave out an encouraging smile, which was tinted with a sad edge. "But, didn't she leave his ranks years ago? That's what you said, at the Order reunion, no?"

"That's what I said, and it was true, yes. But Voldemort is trying to put his hand on her again." Harry's eyes widened with surprise, and he slowly nodded, pushing the Headmaster to continue. "So I invited her to fill in the role of Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. Role, that, I also must admit, very few wanted to fill." A small giggle escaped from Harry's lips. Dumbledore starting reciting.

"These last years, her only link with us had been the Order, of which she was member though she never participated to any of the reunions since Voldermort's fall. Then, one night, as usual, I must sadly say, a fight exploded between Snape and Sirius… and she was mentioned." He paused for a few seconds, apparently remembering the events of that particular evening. "That's when her existence came back in my mind. Tormenting me. I hadn't seen her since the last war, and suddenly I was worried. She had arrived to us one night, maybe five years before Snape had, seven before our victory, as Voldemort's assaults became more and more frequent. She went back to Remus first, and then he brought her to me. Only a few others were there that night, with us. Your parents and Sirius were absent, and that's probably why she felt so at ease. It was not long the she accepted to give us all the information she knew on the Death Eaters…"

"Except?" Harry asked, guessing his teacher was being reluctant.

"Except the one concerning a few people. Miss Lestrange, Mister Malfoy… and Snape. Many refused to accept her in the Order for such a reason. They had been greatly disappointed by her enrollment in Voldemort's army, and they believe that her return by our side was a way of erasing her mistakes, a way of showing her friends and family she hated everything of Voldemort and his supporters."

Dumbledore's words brought back in Harry's mind the things George had told him and his friends the last night, about what Molly and Arthur had said about Thalia, and about Lupin…

"You still let her in?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer to his question.

"Of course. We had to. She had turned her back to the Dark Lord for us, well… probably not for us, but she had been kind enough to furnish us with precious details about upcoming attacks and gathering places. We couldn't take all that information and send her to her death."

"But they didn't want to kill her. Somehow, she… she survived."

"Yes, but I did not know that at the time. I still don't understand how she managed to keep her heart beating. And even if I had known… the rejection of an ally would have tarnished the Order's image."

"That's why she chose not to show her alliances to most of the Order members, such a Sirius, for instance," Dumbledore continued. "She was too weak to endure the comments that were muttered the first time she refused to tell us where Snape was to be found on a certain night. The attacks had been… harsh, at the very least."

Harry gulped, and Dumbledore understood why. "Don't worry. Your parents were very encouraging. They influenced a few others into accepting her, and none dared to speak ill of the woman in their presence. They understood how hard it must have been for her. Of course, when they weren't there…"

"Then why didn't she want to expose herself? If the ones she hated the most were actually on her side…"

"The fact that they were on her side, defending her, didn't weigh for much in the balance. And to be honest, I doubt she was ever aware of their generous gesture. So when, well, when your parents passed away," he said gingerly, "she decided she'd be strong enough to support the evil looks and angry whispers. Of course, the Order was dissolved shortly after this tragic event… So I let her go in the wild, not really thinking of the consequences."

"Consequences?"

"Well obviously she didn't stay in touch with any of the members of the Order, and for some reasons I will not unveil she was not back with Snape."

"But… she was still with him when he was with Voldemort and she, in the Order, these five entire years?"

"Yes."

"But when he joined her, they broke up?"

The bearded man nodded silently.

"Wow. That's special."

Dumbledore smiled but as promised remained speechless on the subject. He nevertheless pursued his explanation, that greatly resembled a confession.

"Having no one to turn to, I realize it was simply logic that she turned towards friends like Malfoy… who had been entirely washed of all suspicions by the general public."

"I thought you said… when you met her she was only starting to go back towards old friends."

"Yes, well right after the fall she only kept contact with a few of these friends. One, particularly. But then, she returned to Snape when you were probably around six or seven years old."

Harry flinched. He hated being mixed up to this story.

"It was fine for a while. They were both under control, as they had both already left Voldemort's ranks. They weren't friends with anyone in the Order, but I knew they were safe and would not cause any trouble, Snape already working with me at Hogwarts. But then, as you know, last year… Trouble came again."

Dumbledore laughed at his own words. "Trouble, what am I saying. Voldemort came back to flesh and bone. And Snape's services were needed, once again."

"He had to work undercover as a Death Eater."

"Exactly. Now, Snape's duties within the Order requiring him to participate in each and every one of our enemies' councils, Thalia took the habit of following him to these reunions. Not joining in them, of course – the Dark Lord could never admit a traitor at his table – but joining with the Death Eaters after such reunions. And renewing with old friends."

"But she only went to those… reunions (Harry shrugged, convinced that these 'reunions' were probably the stage to some of the world's worst horrors) because of Snape? It was Snape she followed the entire time, no?"

"Yes."

"Then if she followed Snape… didn't his allegiances push her towards you?"

"You've just uttered the question that has tormented my mind ever since Snape has mentioned her during that fight a year ago. Why didn't she follow the love of her life?"

Dumbledore stood silent for so long that Harry though for a moment he actually wanted him to find an answer to that unsolvable question.

"I found many answers, and one of hem was this: she did not see the link between the Order and Snape. From Thalia's point of view, Snape's position was the same as hers. Neutral. Not an actual Death Eater, but a man who still hated our side. It is true, sadly, that he profoundly hates us, but he still stands on our side in the event of a war… like now.

Harry' mouth was filled with a bitter taste as he realized he did not share the man's blind confidence in Snape's positions. He never had.

"So by inviting her to join the Order once again, actively this time, I hoped she would see that Snape works with us, and that if she wants to be with him, she has to chose our side."

"I don't think sides really matter to those two," Harry pointed out.

"You're absolutely right, and I wish I had known such a fact at the time."

There was a silence.

"Sadly, that's when I made my biggest error."

"What was it?"

"I pushed her too quickly to act. You remember the announcement I had made during the Order's reunion? How she had eliminated many enemies? That was an error. She hated herself after the, well, the killing, and regretted her choice. She said that she had crossed a line she never wanted to cross."

"Weren't you happy she had crossed that line?"

"Yes, but she wasn't, and that could have meant her departure. And probably her death."

"So what was your solution?"

"Inviting her here, offering her shelter, and time with Snape. At the same time, the association between Snape and our side might have the time to grow if she saw him act day and night under this roof."

"Did it work?"

"That part did."

"Then, it's fine no? Anyways, didn't you say Voldemort would never accept a traitor at his table?"

"Yes, and it was true at the time. But not anymore. He saw the guilt she felt when she attacked her old family, he heard the tales of the good times she passed with Malfoy and all their friends, he guessed her smiles when she finally got to saw them. And decided it was time to get her back, lure her back into his ranks. Luckily I brought her under my protection first."

"That was the purpose of the battle. Simply bringing her to see her… family once again."

"Exactly. Of course, that was only a part of the invasion. What Malfoy and his acolytes have done in the dungeons, we know for sure Voldemort hadn't planned. But very few understood why three of them simply wandered in the corridors… You're a clever boy Harry."

The clever boy in question did not know how to react.

"Yes, if it hadn't been of Malfoy's ridiculous assault, there would have been no battle. Simply a little incursion within Hogwarts' walls. We are lucky he did so though. That way we are assured that the only feelings that invade Thalia's mind when she thinks of her old way of life will be rage and distress."

"Thalia said something about you wanting her to lock herself up to make sure she wouldn't do anything stupid. You only wanted it to be impossible for her to meet with these people."

"A clever assumption, once again. A right one, too."

"And Snape was locked in with her because…?"

"Well, firstly because I knew that would make her happy. Having them together was probably the best way for them to reconcile, and make her smile and see life on a bright side once again. Which would have helped her appreciate Hogwarts and all the people in it. His very presence could have also pushed her to stay in the common room in the event of a mutiny… which I knew in advance would happen."

"So why give out the orders to lock herself up, then? Or pretend you thought they were in a fight?"

"So she could believe she had control, and so I could reunite them by providing them with –"

"A common enemy," Harry finished in his place.

"Exactly."

"You use way to much psychology."

"I know. I sometimes feel guilty because of that. Anyways…"

"That's why you were angry at Snape. That's why you punished him by sending him to the dungeons to directly attack his friends, thing he probably hates as much as Thalia. He let her leave. He was supposed to keep her inside the castle walls, but he let her leave."

"Yes. He disobeyed to direct orders I had given him. Which caused me a great surprise. You see, I thought Snape would be glad to bring Thalia back on my side, on our side actually. That way he could finally be with her openly, without hiding. But something strange happened this year… My plan backfired in a way I could have never predicted."

"What happened?"

"The exact opposite of what I had planned."

"You see," he explained, "in this relationship… I feel terrible exposing things such way, but I believe I have to… Snape is the "leader", one might say. Thalia is the one depending on him, hoping he will not leave her but having no guarantee. She's the one that gets jealous and fears day and night he might disappear."

Harry nearly choked to death in his saliva, too surprised at first to talk. "Are you kidding? Thalia can get anyone, ANYONE" he emphasized, "she wants. All I keep hearing are stories about those who wanted to date her. Whereas Snape… well before I knew he had Thalia, I strongly believed he had nobody. And that no other scenario was possible."

Dumbledore laughed, a frank, honest laugh that echoed in his office.

"I understand your reaction. To, frankly, anyone who does not know their story, such a fact may seem impossible to be believed, but it still remains the truth. When they were students, she fell in love with him first, and then patiently waited until he finally fell in love too."

Harry remembered her admitting that she was desperately in love with him, while he wasn't at first.

"Seeing this situation, I thought Thalia would be the one following Snape to our side. But I've started to realize that maybe I did a huge error. It seems that Snape has started following Thalia instead, back into the Dark Lord's arms…"

"Ouch."

"Yes. You cannot understand what a catastrophe his departure from our ranks would be."

"What's pushing him away?"

"Thalia. In two very different, but very effective ways. Unwittingly of course."

"Can you tell me… exactly how?" Harry dared to ask.

"Firstly by creating a more friendly link with the people he sees regularly, and also by… cutting the most vital link he had with the Order."

"Erm… what?"

"It's the most I can tell you Harry."

_(Please understand that means he's forgetting Lily)_

"Alright. So why are you telling me all this?" Harry asked, slightly annoyed.

"Mostly because I'm aware of your unquenchable thirst for information and, lets be honest, secrets. But also because I need you to do me a huge favor."

"What is it?"

"I would like you to observe Thalia, especially this Christmas. These two weeks could become a turning point in this struggle between me and Voldemort. A turn in my favor. Make sure she is happy, check her reactions, what she tells everyone, how she acts. See if there is something wrong in her behavior. Of course," he added, "don't overdo it. You have the right to enjoy your vacations like any other student. She'll also be very worried by Snape's state, so of course her face will be almost permanently clouded by fear and concern."

"I think I get it... Observe once in a while, try and notice any strange behavior."

"Exactly."

"I'll do it."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I take from such a demand that you won't be joining us for Christmas?"

"No, sadly, I have other business to attend to. But thank Molly for me, if you don't mind. I appreciate the vest."

Harry looked around and caught sight of the knitted sweater vest that rested folded on a chair. It was a clear cyan, the exact shade of the man's eyes, and on it was knit an elegant, golden A. Harry gave a short though to the bottle green sweater that rested at the bottom of his suitcase, and then set his attention back on reality.

"It'll be my pleasure," he said, grinning. "But… how am I to get there? I think they just left…"

"They left about half-an-hour ago, actually. But you'll leave tonight, by train."

"Like the other students," Harry said.

"No, actually, you'll leave a bit later. And you'll have company."

"Who?" the boy asked, knowing that the Headmaster would utter the name that had occupied his life for the last months.

"Thalia," the man replied. "Snape will be transferred at St-Mungos in only a few moments, and she'll then get ready to leave with you in about an hour or so. You don't have to talk to her the entire way. You can decide to sleep in a private cabin if you want to."

"Alright. Thanks."

"I just don't want to leave her alone in the train. At least you'll be two."

Harry smiled. He did not mind spending the trip with Thalia. He knew that if she was to fill his mind with things he did not want to hear, the FireWhiskey that would great him once at the Order Headquarters would easily wash them off his mind.

_On this last note - it's the almost birthday of my story, or it's online part, anyways._


	21. Chapter 21

_I guess it'll be easier going in duos or trios, especially at this part of the story. _

Harry was sitting on a small, old-fashioned bench, staring at the empty railway that lay before him, its end stretching out in the dark of the night. The black sky was covered in small clouds of fog, and Harry could not help but recall the muggle horror movies the idiots at his old school spoke about. A dark night. A lonely child. A surreal stillness. Footsteps echoing clearly in the air as nature remained speechless.

Footsteps echoed loudly on the wooden planks that formed the station's floor. Harry turned on the spot. Damn teacher with her heels. The woman was walking towards him, a heavy suitcase in her hand, wrapped in a green coat and blue scarf. As she emerged from the fog in a surreal movement, Harry thought Fred would have probably killed to spend an entire train ride with her. And to see her walk towards him that way. The boy smiled. He did not see what his friend saw in Thalia. He understood why Snape liked her: he for himself believed Snape would love anyone willing to love him in return. He had not seen her when she was young, but gave Lupin the benefice of doubt by assuming she must have been pretty and full of life. As today… She was still pretty, and Harry couldn't deny that. But she was so… hateful. There was something about her, that Harry just couldn't grasp, that suddenly turned her delicate features into a horrid mask he could barely glimpse at. Then again, all that was probably just because he mixed up physical appearance and interior beauty. He considered if Thalia was as ugly on the outside as in the inside… well, he doubted Snape would even date her. "No, she wouldn't be that bad," he thought. She'd simply be so… excessive. Alternating between hatred and love, sympathy and disdain, weak and powerful. Beauty and ugliness. Constantly. What Fred saw in her, he couldn't see. Fred probably didn't see much either, actually. Simply a pretty body, topped with a head that knew how to flatter that pretty body, a mysterious past and just a hint of rejection to seem "hard-to-get". He focused his attention on Thalia again. Ugh. Not a chance he could ever understand Fred. Or have a crush on a teacher, as it was.

She arrived by his side. "Hey. Have you been waiting long?" she asked, placing her luggage on the moist ground.

"Yeah, but it's not your fault. I came out to say bye to everyone when the first train left… an hour ago!" he added in surprise, staring wide eyed at his wrist watch. He had not seen time fly by.

"Good. Well, ready to go?"

The boy nodded, and suddenly a low whistle filled the air. A train was rolling into the station moments later, its gigantic wheels slowing down until they finally stood still, immobile.

"How… how the hell?" Harry asked.

"Well, Dumbledore has asked that they reserve a train for both of us, and to have it ready for our departure. Seeing we are now ready…"

"But… It appeared just on time for us?"

"Well, we are the only two passengers."

"But… Humans are supposed to follow train schedules. Not the opposite."

"I agree almost entirely. Muggles are supposed to follow train schedules. But what's the point of magic if you can't bend a few rules." She winked. Harry though did not consider the discussion over.

"But in second grade?! The train left at eleven, and Ron and I missed it by a few seconds only. Why didn't it wait?"

Thalia seemed puzzled, frowning, but found a rather acceptable answer.

"I think it would be because the big majority of the students were present in the train. Two out of a whole school, probably doesn't weigh much in the balance…"

Still shocked, Harry grabbed his suitcase, which was far more light weight than Thalia's, and stepped into the train. Which was, he realized now, much smaller than the Hogwarts Express. It was only far cabins long, and each of the cubicles was narrower. Harry chuckled. The benches were long and straight, whereas in the train his fellow students were at the same moment, they were short and usually curbed. This train was built for night traveling: the benches were in fact beds. The boy walked into one of them and checked the luggage net. It contained a pillow and a soft, red sheet. Letting out a sigh of pleasure, savoring in advance his trip, he threw the sheet on the long bench, and painfully lifted his suitcase to place it in the net. It had difficulty fitting in the narrow space, but he managed to squeeze it in. Luckily, he had brought a small suitcase… unlike Thalia. He realized it would be plain courteousness to offer her some help. "Two pairs of arms will be required to lift up such a weight," he mumbled. Only, when he walked through the door leading to the cabin next to his, he saw the suitcase was already in the net, hanging over Thalia's head. "Wow. You're strong," he let out in admiration. She turned to face him, still holding her pillow in her hands.

"No," she replied with a smile, "I have a wand."

Harry cursed himself for installing himself "muggle-way", and making his arms slightly sore for no reason whatsoever. As he was about to bid his teacher goodnight, and try to make up for his impolite way of rushing in his own cabin and not even offering to stay up with her, he noticed the color of the sheet that was laid out on her bed.

"Why is it green?" he asked, pointed the object just as a five year old would have done.

"A nice gesture. Probably a little way for Dumbledore to show he cares."

"You actually mind the color of the sheets you sleep in?"

She laughed. "No, it's not like my skin would peel off if I was to sleep in anything red. I just hate how everything about Hogwarts is red."

Her remark cut Harry to the quick. "What'd you mean, everything is red?"

"Well, the Hogwarts Express for instance…"

"What's wrong with it."

Thalia seemed insulted by the boy's cheeky behavior. "It's red."

"What's wrong with red?"

"I just think that since it represents one of the Houses, it shouldn't be used on objects that are affiliated to every one of the Houses."

"Blood is red. Should we empty out our veins to make sure the other Houses aren't insulted?"

"What?"

"I thought you liked your blood. Adored it. So pure," he emphasized as a geyser of anger opened itself in his heart.

"This proves my point! Gryffondors are only empty minded charmers with thick skulls, a bunch of superstars that wait for the entire world to adore them, and are ready to use any technique to look better than the others! And nevertheless they are celebrated everywhere in this hellish school!"

"What do you mean, any technique… That's not what I'm doing!"

"You're reducing me to the errors of my past, errors that were forced on me by the actions of your bloody descendants."

"Yeah, well you're not the only one who's had a tough childhood. Quit your soap opera drama and fight without the cover of pity."

"I'm sorry?! It's pity that brought you to fame. How many victims of You-Know-Who are celebrated throughout the world? They merit as much respect as you do. You just got lucky and survived."

"At least I didn't get bitter."

"Are you kidding me? You've been planning the death of the Dark Lord since you've learned his very existence. And you were ready to kill Sirius when you thought he had helped to simply locate them. While I'm here, taking care of the son of the one who ruined my life."

"That's what you call taking care of? And even if, you've joined the Death Eaters out of frustration and anger. You were ready to kill anyone on my father's side, that's how incredibly resentful you were. You've gone out of your mind with bitterness, admit it!"

"Well we can't all have the entire bloody Ministry, added with Mister Albus Dumbledore himself, to shelter our little mind. No one gave me any support, so I found my own."

"That wasn't support," Harry snarled, "you were just a tool in Voldemort's hand."

Thalia twitched when she heard Voldemort's name, but nevertheless continued.

"Just as you are a tool in Dumbledore's plan."

"Just as you are a tool in Snape's – "

"Stop that puerile rebellion this instant, Potter," Thalia interrupted him. "I'm still your teacher."

"Huh, you've broken every rule relative to the teacher/student contacts."

"For your advantage as well as mine."

There was a silence, during which Harry realized he had been shouting. His teacher smoothed out the green sheet in which she would be sleeping. Harry's heart was frantic, he could hear it pounding in his entire body. He breathed deeply. He knew sleep would be welcomed with joy by his exhausted body. And he had four hours to fall into Morpheus' arms. To then meet up with his friends, friends that would all take his side and agree with him. He recovered his senses quickly enough, as opposite to Thalia who was still, well, red. He could only smile as he made that reflection, and was happy she was turning her back to him. He could still feel she was getting impatient. He was too. He chose to speak first. "Good night, Miss Beauregard," he said, preferring the greatly impersonal use of her last name to the use of the name "Thalia". Word that his father and Sirius, and Lupin and Dumbledore, and Snape (he shrugged in disgust) all used. She answered. "Goodnight, Harry." Apparently, she couldn't stand the word "Potter".

***

For the next hour, Harry tossed and turned in his red sheets. Though the bench was incredibly comfortable for a bench, he could not sleep. He regretted for a moment that his sheets, just like Thalia, were not green. The vivid red hit his eyes anytime he would open them, piercing the heavy curtain of night. He was convinced that the slow swaying of the train would make him sleepy, but instead it bothered him. He could distinctly hear every rotation of the wheels and counted them, unwittingly. Also, what kept turning in his head, were Thalia's words. He did not believe them. They simply angered him, angered him so badly. So, the Gryffondor House hosted the most expressive of all students. What was wrong with that? That's how the Houses were built. He wanted to get up and spit words of hate – any words – to Thalia, but he didn't want to disrupt her sleep. And he knew he would regret them. He didn't hate her. He simply hated that she always felt obligated to express her opinion. They went along fine when they both remained shut, or when they restricted themselves to small talk. Ugh. He looked at the ceiling once again. Suddenly, he hated this room. Well, cabin. He stood up. Maybe if he changed emplacement. The air would be fresher, the _décor_ slightly different. It was worth a try. After all, there were four cabins to the train. He got to his feet, tucked his pillow under his shoulder and turned his sheet into a messy ball of fabric. He stepped outside his door. "Can't sleep?"

Thalia was sitting cross-legged on her bed, and a table was placed before her. On it was a large, deep green, leather bound book. It was open about half way-through, and Thalia was adding lines of thin writing to it's blank pages, in a jet black ink. Harry felt impolite to impose himself on her territory (after the small war they had battled he had decided the train would be split up in territories) but she had already spoken to him. He considered her question an invitation to talk. "Nan," he answered. "What are you writing?"

She didn't answer at once. "If it's not too impolite to ask," Harry added. Definitely, this was not a night to remember.

"No, it's fine," she replied. "I'm writing… my life, I guess. Explaining the world and how I see it."

"A sort of diary?" he asked.

"Not really. More of a … narrative."

"So you can be remembered when… dead?"

"Yeah, sort of." She gave Harry a smile.

"You've already taken an awful lot of space," he pointed out, seeing she was already halfway through the book at a rather young age.

"I know… But I think I won't even manage to fill it up to the end."

"When d'you start it?" Harry asked.

"Maybe a year after I left school. At eighteen."

Harry nodded.

"Hence the green cover," she added with a sad smile.

Harry considered his incursion in her private life had gone to far. "You couldn't sleep either?"

"No, not at all. I'm so worried for Sev. I probably won't shut an eye until they tell me what he has and how we can cure it."

"I hope he gets better," Harry said, surprised to find he was a hundred percent honest.

"Thanks. Ugh, its nerve wrecking. That's why I'm so jumpy. Sorry for, you know."

"Yeah. Same here."

"You were also sorry and angry simply because you're worried about Snape?" she asked with a skeptical smile.

"Yes for the first part and… I was angry because what you said angered me."

"Thanks for the honesty."

She waved her wand and the ink on the rough page instantly dried. She then closed the voluminous book and twisted the cap on the ink bottle. Suddenly all of these objects levitated, and Thalia guided them to her trunk, that then magically opened. They fell on a pile of clothes, and the suitcase shut itself. She put her wand away – probably in order to reassure Harry – and spoke again. "You must hate my presence in Hogwarts."

"Erm…"

"If you don't want to answer, don't. I'm just… absolutely convinced that you'd rather have another DADA teacher."

"Well, you're a good teacher. And you're nice, you know, as a human being."

"You never though that I might… know too much? And talk a bit too much about what I know?"

Harry chose not to tell her he was making such a reflection only minutes ago.

"Well, I guess it's important to learn the truth at some point in your life."

"So… your glad you know?"

Hesitation teared Harry apart. But then he looked at his teacher, who's life was so tightly intertwined with his that she probably deserved another title than "teacher". She was being honest. She wanted to know what he thought of her. And he had already been so bold that he couldn't possibly sink lower. "Well, to be honest…"

He started searching for a bench to sit down, but found none. The cabin was truly empty, except for that table. Thalia guessed what he was searching for. "Come," she said, "one of these cabins is a sort of living room. I found it when I was looking for the table."

They both got up, and walked to the cabin situated at the front of the train. It was bigger than the other ones. It contained a small table identical to the one Thalia had used as a writing desk, and three large love seats. Harry noticed with satisfaction and a bit of relief that the seats were a dark brown. Thalia installed herself in one of them.

_Sorry for the rather short (and oddly-ended) chapter, I just didn't know where to cut…_


	22. Chapter 22

_Sorry for the horribly cut out chapters, but I didn't really have the choice. It was that, or four horribly cut out chapters, or a 5 000 words chapter – I try to keep mine around 3 000. So, hope you still enjoy the story!_

"You were saying?"

"Yeah," he started, "I was saying… that I hate discovering how horrible my father was."

"Don't say that. He's not horrible."

"You're one to talk."

"Harry, we're all horrible in a way," she told him. "I swear."

"I still preferred…" Harry started, unable to explain his thought.

"The bliss of ignorance?" Thalia proposed.

"Yeah. Exactly."

"Alright then. Sorry. I'll stop telling you about his life, and mine."

"Wait, what? No!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Well, now I do know the worst – wait, that's the worst, right?"

"Yes Harry, it's the worst."

"Alright, well then I want to know the rest. Try to understand the unbelievable."

"You're quite wise for your age, you know."

"Erm, thanks."

"Yeah, you're probably not used to receive compliments from me… I'm sorry I treated you so bad."

"You didn't. Honestly. Snape was a thousand times worst."

"Yeah, I heard he was. But he is so bitter. I'm so bitter. Ugh. Were such a disgusting couple!"

Harry's reflexes urged him to let out a very audible "Yes!", but he understood Thalia was not referring to that kind of "disgusting", and so chose to remain silent.

"How did you two fall in love?" he asked instead.

"You really want to know?"

"Yeah, well no, first, how d'you meet my father? And my mother too."

Thalia smiled. "Why don't I tell you the entire story?"

Harry looked at his watch. He still had about two and a half hours to spend on the train. And he was ready to listen.

"Go on."

"I believe you know more or less all about my parents…" she started.

"Urm, yeah, I think you might have told us…" Harry started, trying to cover for the fact that he had completely forgotten almost everything she had told him recently. Or at least, anything concerning her parents.

"It's fine!" she laughed. "They're not that important anyways. The important is… when I arrived at school, I didn't know a lot of people. I knew Molly and Arthur, of course, but they already had their older friends, and I knew Regulus, also. Sirius' older brother," she added. "Our families were rather close. He was the first one I found on the train that day, so I joined him. And his friends of course. A few I don't remember the names. But there was Lucius. That I remember."

"So your first train ride was an omen of your future somehow," Harry pointed out.

"We often don't realize how tiny little coincidences forge our entire lives. For instance, who did you spend your first train ride with?"

"Ron and Hermione."

The woman smiled. Harry suddenly understood the signification of her words.

"So as I was saying, I spent the first part of the trip with them. And…" she hesitated. "And that's it," she stated, apparently choosing to hide a few details of her life from her interlocutor. "After a while, Sirius arrived in our cabin. He wanted to talk to his brother. I clearly remember thinking, at that very moment, that it would be wise to talk to a few students my age… so I wouldn't end up a total stranger to all my classmates. When Sirius left I followed him – I was as much friends with him as with Regulus, well, almost as much – and ended up in a cabin with your father, Remus and Sirius. And I had a blast. Honestly."

"Its nice to know at some point in your life you and my father got along."

"Yeah. Well, to be honest, I consider it more sickening than nice, but were all entitled to our opinions."

"It was fine until Severus arrived, though," she continued. "With Lily. The guys immediately admitted her, but they were so cruel to him. Lily couldn't stand it. Me neither, actually. He left, and she followed, staying in our cabin just long enough to shout at them. And then I left. I followed Lily, back into Regulus' cabin. Snape was sitting with them, but your mother… just wouldn't join them. I think they scared her. Snape refused to leave the cabin, so she just stomped away, leaving him behind."

"And you?"

"I stayed with the boys. I was happy to be with them again. And I got to know Severus better. It was a nice ride. And then I remembered Lily."

"She was with my father?"

"Oh, hell no!" Thalia exclaimed. "She was, well, alone. I left Regulus and Lucius – again – and went to find her. I spent the rest of the trip with her. She was so brilliant, and so kind. I couldn't believe it. I had found my best friend."

"Wow. Your relations have greatly evolved over the years."

Harry could remember his first train ride had been calmer. He had spent the entire time with the same two people. Three, actually, counting Neville at the end. While Thalia had switched from group to group. He resisted the urge to laugh. Another omen.

"Yes they have," she laughed. "When we arrived to Hogwarts I followed Lily to the castle, but then Sirius found me and apologized for his behavior. Doing so he pulled me away from Lily, who found Severus. And I was with the boys. Then you know what happened with the Sorting Hat."

Harry nodded. That he remembered.

"Well, that's kind of it. I was placed in Gryffondor, happy to be with Sirius, Remus and Lily, a little less happy to be with James… After all, he hadn't apologized. I was in my room with Lily and two other girls we barely spoke to. We were so incredibly close. She spent most of her time with Severus, and sometimes I tagged along. I guess my other best friend was Remus. Most of the time I spent with… everyone in school actually. I loved the people from the other Houses. Ah," she sighed. "It lasted for the first two or three years."

"Then, things changed. James fell in love with Lily. He started following her everywhere. And Severus got sick of being followed everywhere by James. So he turned to other Slytherins. The ones I had mentioned earlier."

"Uck."

"I guess you can say so." She laughed. "Lily hated seeing him with them, but I didn't mind. At first she tried including herself, but you can guess how that didn't work. And then something else changed. I fell in love with Severus."

"Hell," Harry thought. No other word left his brain.

"So I joined him and the other Slytherins. Not so often, but most of the time. When they discussed of regular teenage subjects, I was happy. When they'd switch to more… pure-blood talk, I left."

Harry frowned deeply, but stayed silent. Thalia realized.

"Harry," she pointed out, "I hope you understand you're allowed to comment. After all, I am opening up more than I'm probably even allowed to…"

"Alright then. I find the fact that you denied you were surrounded by potential killers simply sickening."

"Well said."

Harry, not understanding the meaning of those unfathomable words, urged the woman to continue.

"I was spending a big part of my time with the Slytherins, and the rest with Remus, mostly. Lily, on the other hand, had cut off all her relations with Snape. That's when we started dating. About half-way through fourth grade." Her features were hinted with bitterness. Harry chose not to point it out.

"Sirius and James started hating me at that point. Though Remus understood that I did not follow these people's ideas, we all understood he was, say, not happy with my behavior. You know why. Still, we all managed to live in this unhealthy but somewhat balanced situation. And then Lily and James started dating. Sixth grade. Lily hated me for not trying to save Severus from the hands of the Slytherins. James hated to see his girlfriend defend the student he hated the most, and he somehow saw a link with me. Sirius hated that I chose his brother's side instead of him. And all three of them hated that I didn't choose Remus."

Harry could see the downfall coming.

"When we came back from our summer vacation, and began our seventh and final year at Hogwarts, the state of things was unbearable. Mostly for me."

Harry let out a small smile. Of course he knew his teacher would try to place herself as the victim. He nevertheless thought she'd do it in a far more subtle way._ Protect your mind. _Sirius' words took all their sense now.

"James hated me. Sirius didn't like me much either. The only times I had come to visit him, he had totally ignored me. The worst is," she added, "I actually wanted to see him too. Remus encouraged us to befriend each other, once again. But Sirius didn't really want to. And I had Regulus anyways. So we didn't. Lily was on their side. And that was the good thing to do."

Harry was surprised. He hadn't seen this confession coming.

"During that summer, I discovered that my friends weren't good people. Not good at all actually. And I saw that Snape… well, Snape saw that too. But he had nowhere else to go. No other family. No other House."

"You did."

"Yeah. I did. Well, that's what I thought. But when I arrived in the common House that first day of school… I saw that in reality, I didn't. I told Remus about that. About how I was scared now. I didn't want him to tell Sirius and James, though. I didn't want them to win."

"Wait… You were scared?"

"Terrified. Snape was starting to follow their ideas, instead of simply nodding and staying silent. Regulus was absent most of the time. And Lucius was insanely… insane. You should have seen him talking. He was feverish. So into his speeches. And I could see he liked me. A lot. That, I didn't like."

Harry nodded. The words were digging their place in his brain. The puzzle was almost complete.

"I was exiled against my will in Slytherin's camp. I regretted my past actions, during those few months."

"Why didn't you tell anyone? I'm sure they would have been happy to help you escape from Voldemort's clutches."

"Voldemort wasn't a threat at that time. Not yet. Only a few knew of his existence. I didn't believe he was a powerful as Lucius claimed. In that sense, I was not a menace to anyone really. And, well… you know, Headmasters don't need to take care of their students' mental health. So I just hoped. Hoped it would get better. And then it didn't."

Harry suddenly felt his stomach jolt.

The boy finally understood. How it was "their fault", as he had heard Thalia say countless times. All the little sentences he had gathered here and there finally formed a huge paragraph, simple, well-drawn, clear. The answer was there, delivered on a silver platter. Only, he wasn't Hermione. He didn't care about Thalia's story. He cared about his father's. Though he knew his friend would treasure this conversation he would have to repeat to her, he didn't. He saw that there was one tiny, little thing, missing. And he wanted to know so, so badly, that he was ready to admit something that revolted him. "But why did he rape you?"

Harry's heart was still frantic with the mere idea of pronouncing this horrible sentence when it doubled in speed as he uttered it. Therefore, he was surprised to see it didn't purely stop when Thalia answered: "I could show you if you want."

Harry jumped up and fell off his seat. As he was struggling to get back up, he let all the accumulated energy out. "Are you crazy?! You sick… What's the matter with you!? I don't want to see that happen before my eyes." Suddenly the situation was clear. Thalia wanted to torture him, to make him live exactly what his father had made her live. He finally managed to stand up, his wand in his fidgeting hand. His teacher spoke, in a soothing tone that managed to help Harry calm down. A little.

"Not the… action itself. I wouldn't show you _my_ memory. Just what happened before. The last one to have seen James just before it happened was Remus. And he gave me the memory of that night. You'll see everything through his eyes. And you'll only see what happened in the Gryffondor tower about an hour before."

"Why can't you just tell me."

"Because Harry… I don't know exactly why he did that. I told you all I know. But if you see him, you might find out for yourself. Build your own interpretation."

Here it was. The chance to see for himself what had happened in his father's head that night. The opportunity to get it over with, and stop asking himself why he had done that. What motives did he have to destroy a life that way. What part of Thalia's story was true, and what part was exagerated. Who was right, Sirius or her. Or rather, what percentage of reality did both their stories contain. A few questions he could stroke off his list. He sat down. He put his wand in his pocket. And he made himself a promise. From this point on, no more explanations. No more eavesdropping, no more discoveries, no more innocent chit chat with adults. At least for the next week or so. He was learning too much. A sudden flash hit his mind. Maybe that was what Dumbledore wanted him to do. Learn tons of facts about Thalia, facts the Headmaster could then use to leurre her and Snape back on the good side. Harry's decision was made. He would see the memory. "Alright. I'll take it. But, before… why do you want to show it to me?" The boy could easily see why he had to relive such a memory, but he simply couldn't figure out why Thalia would want him to. The annswer came quickly. "Partly love, partly hate. I won't hide it, I'd love James' son to know all about him, even the worst. And also because I know I'm leaving this world soon enough. Severus too. And someone has to know. You're clever enough to do so." Harry did not understand how he was "clever enough" to know about an event everyone already knew about. But he was insulted by the first part. So insulted that when Thalia placed a small vial filled with a part-liquid, part-vapor substance, he had to resist the urge to knock it down and destroy it. He nevertheless gingerly picked it up between his fingers. The boy oppened the lid and immeditaly pressed his wand against the tip of the bottle, so the memory could stick to it like a long, frail spider web. He was about to place this grey string to his temple when Thalia warned him of something unsuspected. "Oh, by the way, it's… uncensored. You'll see exactly what Remus saw at the moment." Whatever that ment, it was too late for Harry to consider it. He was already hooked. He pressed his wand to his head.


	23. Chapter 23

_Yay! Going back in the past!_

Lupin was sitting on his bed, an old suitcase laying open in front of him. Though he was young, so, so incredibly young, he was aged by his eternally tired features. Rather than the usual black robes all students wore, he was dressed with red, elegant robes that greatly resembled Harry's Quidditch uniform. Only, well, dressier. He was consulting a heavy document entirely covered in printed text when suddenly, Thalia burst in the room – the one which, today, Harry occupied with his friends – to jump on Lupin's bed. And God, was she beautiful. She showed a full smile which illuminated the rest of her face. She sat cross-legged before Lupin, and lifted her two hands up in the air. "Rock on!" she shouted out as Lupin gave her a double high-five, with a smile. She smiled back, and Harry felt his heart melt. She pulled off the red robes she was wearing, revealing muggle clothing: a pair of tight jeans and a black band t-shirt. Harry could only stare at her legs. Her hips. He wanted to tear that t-shirt off. "That's what you call a sudden feeling," he muttered to himself. He stared at Lupin, hoping his friend could jump out of the past and explain to Harry why he suddenly longed to get closer to Thalia, and saw the same desire twinkle in the student's eye. Harry let out a small "Oh". "So that's what Thalia ment," he thought, though nobody could have heard him even if he had been shouting his reflections aloud. "Uncensored. I see the world just like Lupin did." The conversation between the two Gryffondors continued.

"Remus, we were incredible!" the girl shouted.

"No, _you_ were incredible."

"Stop, the entire team is great! 267 points didn't land on our table by…" she hesitated, to finally cease talking.

"Magic?" Lupin chuckled. They both let out a roar of laughter. A joke Harry couldn't understand. He still loved to see Thalia laugh that way. Damn Lupin in love.

"Still," the boy from the past continued when they had both calmed down, and their breathing had returned to normal, "it would be great if our best player could participate in the school competition."

"You know how I don't like competing against the other Houses."

Something broke in Lupin's heart, and Harry felt it vividly.

"Yeah, I get that, but… if we win, you won't be allowed to play against the other schools."

Thalia simply shrugged her shoulders, and explained, with a wink: "I'll still come and cheer for my school. Be your groupie." What crossed Lupin's mind at that moment was so horrible that Harry felt the urge to jump away from his standing point to find a new one, the furthest possible from the two friends.

Thalia also sensed that Lupin had been… disturbed by her words. She erased her smile from her face. "I'm so sorry Remus."

"It's fine."

"No it isn't. But you're too kind."

He gave a small smile, probably hoping that his kindness could weigh in the balance. Harry knew, sadly, it didn't. Remus spoke suddenly.

"So any plans tonight?"

"Erm, no, not really…" Thalia started, unsure.

"I don't mind. Don't go mad because of me."

"Alright. Then, yeah, I'll be with Sev."

"Another Slytherin reunion?" Remus asked, a second question hinted in this first one, which Harry couldn't decipher.

"No, just both of us."

Harry could feel the disappointment mixed with relief that Remus had felt twenty or so years ago. He hated to know the couple would be alone, but…

"I'm glad you're staying away from them," he said aloud.

"Yeah, me too. I think I'll manage to find a way to… stay Gryffondor until the end of the year. Each time they invade Severus' dormatory, we go out. And we'll probably spend a year in exile after Hogwarts."

The last sentence was blurred, a very feeble memory, as Remus had stopped listening after Thalia had said she wouldn't be spending the night in Snape's dormatory.

"Where are you two spending the night then?" he asked.

"Well, I was hoping we could borrow the shack," Thalia explained uneasily.

"Oh. Well, it's fine."

"I mean, you don't have to lend it to us, it's just… Since you won't use it for another week…"

"No, it's fine."

Harry could feel it. The teenager from the memory actually was fine with the idea. Not exultant with joy, but fine.

Thalia picked up one of the stacks of paper Lupin was studying when she had entered the room. "Already studying?"

"Well, since we'll have to compeat against Slytherin without you…"

"Alright then. Want help?"

"Weren't you leaving?" the boy asked bitterly.

"Yeah," the young girl replied, "but tomorrow when we come back from Hogsmead, I'll be free."

"Cool," was Lupin's only answer. Seeing she didn't trust the truth of his words, he gave her an honest smile. Satisfied, she gave a wave of the hand. "See you there then. And congratulations, again."

She stood up, picked up her red robes, and left, passing straight through Harry's image, who hadn't realized he had been blocking the dormitory entrance. He observed Lupin, who was silently revising. "Poor thing," he thought, "Friday night – Harry assumed that the Hogsmead visits were also organized every Saturday twenty tears ago – and he's left alone studying, without the girl he likes. Or his friends…" he mentally added, as a slightly bitter taste made way to his mouth. He found a chair and sat on it. Lupin was still studying, and he couldn't see – nor hear – his father. Wasn't the point of viewing this memory seeing James? "Unaltered, hey?" Harry asked aloud. Maybe this memory would have gained being altered. He sat for a while, and suddenly got annoyed. He didn't feel like watching his friend's image study God-knew-what for two hours so he could finally see his father for about five seconds and a half. He didn't know how to leave a memory by himself. He had to wait for it to finish by itself, or have someone pull him out of it. The boy looked at his watch. The hands were immobile. He got up, and looked around the room for a clock of some sort. He wasn't able to. The fact that every object he moved instantly soared back to its original position didn't help. He tried leaving the room, but three steps out of the room he felt a solid wall form itself inches before his nose. Preferring not to discover whether or not he could get injured in a memory, he went back to the room, and sat on the bed beside Lupin. He was about to start reading his notes on the History of Magical England when he heard a beaming voice coming from the staircase. It was his own.

"Remus!" James chanted. "Here you are, back into your kingdom, after slaying all evil and bringing victory to your camp !" the teenager shouted, rather loudly for such an advanced hour. Lupin tilted his head upwards, and James entered the room, followed by Sirius. Harry's father held his arms wide open, triumphant, a stupid smile on his face. He looked drunk. Walking through the door, he hit one of his hand on the stone frame. It made a terrible sound, and Harry cringed at the thought of the pain, imitating Lupin. James, though, continued his march towards his friend as if nothing was. "Yep," Harry understood, "drunk." Sirius followed, but he was slightly grimmer. James sat on Lupin's bed, in a not so vertical position. "So," he asked, "did you win?"

"It was only a practice."

"Yeah, but there was another team!" James boasted, as though it was he, and not Lupin, that had been present at the practice.

"267 to 145. For us," Lupin let out, emotionless.

"Hurray!" James cried. "Hurray to our little genius!"

"Thalia's the genius," he objected sadly.

"No!" James let out, the mentioning of the girl's name not affecting his drunken bliss the very least. "She is a traitor! Traitors cannot be geniuses!"

On these words of wisdom, James fell on his back, grinning. Sirius sat on what Harry guessed was his own bed. His eyes were clouded with a mix of anger and resent. Lupin tried to ease his mood.

"Wasn't Josephine supposed to be with you, tonight?"

"No," he replied. "Not Josephine. Rosemary."

"Oh," Lupin replied with a grin his two friends were unable to detect. "Since when?"

"Mm. Last week. I think."

"Great." Another grin. "I hope it'll last longer this time," he said with a laughing voice that once again went unnoticed.

"It won't. I broke up tonight."

"Why?" Remus asked, intrigued this time.

Sirius didn't reply, so the sole sober teenager continued his monologue. "I wonder if you'll ever manage to hang on to one of the girls you date."

"I wonder if you'll ever let go of the girls you're not dating," Sirius replied.

"Harsh," Harry thought.

Apparently Remus thought the same, as his mood immediately darkened. "Maybe if you chose girl's that were worthy of being chosen…" he added.

Remus muttered so softly that his words did not reach Sirius' ears. James, on the other hand, heard his comment. "She stopped being worthy the day she chose her side."

Remus sighed. Apparently, this subject had been debated many times before.

"And where's Lily? Wasn't tonight a double date of some sort?"

"Yeah, but when we came back, Snivellus ruined all the fun."

"What did he do?"

"He entered our field of vision."

Both James and Sirius laughed loudly and for a very long time. Remus patiently waited for an answer.

"And then, I… I politely teased him. And then Lily got mad."

James stopped talking, angry. His smile was also erased, and now all the three boys in the room were grumpy. "You know, she wouldn't care about him if Thalia didn't talk about him all the time," he started.

"She doesn't," Remus objected.

"Yes she does. Lily hates her you know, but she always goes back crawling to her. How's Sev? Is he alright? Is he still with the evil ones?" he said, in a puerile imitation of Lily.

"They want to leave the group, you know."

"Of course not," Sirius replied, leaving his state of silence. "All summer she came to see Regulus."

"They're in the same dorm. Her and Lily. That could be interesting," James let out, ignoring his friends' words and printing a large grin on his face.

"James, some times you revolt me," Lupin said, revolted.

"Maybe. But damn is she hot."

Something twisted in Lupin, once again.

"Not making it easier, James," he grumbled.

"Yeah, sorry. If only she had stayed on this side. Hell of a triple date," he said, smiling again. You, her, me, Lily, Padfoot and Josephine."

"Rosemary," Sirius corrected.

"Padfoot and Rosemary then."

"Come to think of it, Josephine if hotter."

"Joesphine then." James concluded. "That would be great. Could I borrow her once in a while?" he laughed crudely.

"Guys, you know I hate when you talk about girls like that."

"Come on. We're seventeen. I'll let you talk when we get married. Not before."

There was a silence, then James spoke once again, though his opinion had changed.

"I wouldn't touch her anyways. Filthy Slytherin."

"She's a Gryffondor you know."

"And stupid Lily, also caring about Snape. Ugh. How… Snivellus." Once again, the two drunken teenagers laughed.

"She broke your heart," Sirius uselessly reminded Lupin, jumping to his feet.

"And you've done a wonderful job mending it," Remus pointed out with sarcasm.

"Better than that disgusting cousin of yours," James told Sirius, as if he had been the one talking.

"She's as much my cousin as yours."

"Yeah, but you're closer."

"Well, I spat on my family."

"Hurray to that!"

"Hurray!"

"I'm going to go see Lily." On that, James left the room.

"She's going to be pissed," Remus predicted as Sirius threw himself on his bed once again.

"I hate Thalia."

"Why, thank you," Remus replied. His friend finally shut up, and he focused on his study papers, his heart still pounding. Silence was king of the room, once again. "Was that it?" Harry thought. "He wanted to find my mother and… found Thalia? How can you mistake two girls for that long?" he asked himself. He approached the door, and peaked in the passageway, part of it being completely black, since Lupin, from his point of view, couldn't see what was hidden in certain angles. Suddenly, James popped out of one of these dark spots and walked right through Harry, who jumped about an inch high.

"She's pissed!" he shouted, out of his mind with rage.

"Told you," Remus muttered to himself, so James couldn't hear him.

"Says I'm not a good human being. Bloody Snape. Intoxicated her mind. Probably slipped her some potion during their stupid classes."

He stomped across the room, infuriated. Suddenly, Harry could clearly see where this was going.

"And you know who had just left? Bloody Thalia. She had just told her she knew what I had done, and know she's pissed that I've done it even though she's only based on what she said!" James shouted to no one in particular, unaware that there was a limit to the number of "she_"_ 's you could place in a sentence for it to remain comprehensible. "Lets go to the shrieking shack, guys. I'm in for a fight."

"Sorry to disappoint, you, James, but I'm only changing in a week," Remus said.

"I'll fight Sirius then." James was fidgeting.

"Unfair battle," the werewolf replied again.

"Then I'll fight the bloody walls!" he burst out. "Get on your feet guys."

"James, we can't go."

"I'll destroy walls, where ever I find myself. So we better leave."

"James, we can't."

"Why?"

"The Headmaster knows the moon cycle. He's aware that I'm not transforming tonight."

"So?"

"Well, he'll know I don't need to be there. And he's provided the shack for my special condition, not for our own good pleasure."

"Come on!"

"Not tonight!"

"You idiot! We always use that Shack more than we should, and that ain't anything new. Peter used it last week so he could finish his stupid Potions homework, and you bring Thalia in there every week or so."

Harry could see Lupin's back stiffen.

"What if?"

"You're not supposed to show it to anybody."

"I showed it to you and you didn't mind."

"Asking a friend for help isn't the same as using the Shack to get a girl to fall in love with you!"

"Thalia is one of my friends."

"You don't bring her out there on full moon nights. Not only."

"I don't see a bloody moon in the sky tonight either."

Both the boys sat down, and the animation filling the room, after reaching it's peak, slowly fell. In Remus, anyways. Harry, sharing his emotions, could feel he was calm now, confident he had won. But he saw James' face, and suddenly, he was scared.

"You gave her the shack for tonight," he spat out, his eyes burning, features twisted with anger. "You gave her the bloody shack." He had guessed.

Lupin was slightly afraid, but chose not to show it. "What if?" he asked casually.

"What if?! She's stealing that shack from us! It's only supposed to be us that use it!"

"No, it's only supposed to be me."

"Well then why is she in there without you?"

Suddenly, the fiery eyes widened. "She's in there with Snape!"

Remus simply wouldn't move.

"You show her the bloody shack and she borrows it to go screw her filthy boyfriend?! It's disgusting."

"If it can get her away from the gang of Slytherins she's around I'm glad to lend it."

Harry could see he was lying. He hated the idea of Thalia bringing another boy in the shack. But he was honest on one point: he wanted her away from her cohort of friends.

"It's horrible!" James was shouting, and Sirius stared at his friends, unable to understand anything. "Get away from her, Remus! You shouldn't be like that. Don't mess up your existence for her. She doesn't deserve one, anyways! She's filth, just like that Severus."

"James I'm not scared to hex you."

Harry's father went on, unaware of his friend's threats. Harry was truly scared now. It all made sense. Seeing his father like that, he could believe he had attacked Thalia that way. But he still didn't understand why. He felt sick. He was nauseous. But he couldn't leave. Only stare at his own reflection shouting words of hate.

"It's sickening. Sickening!" James kept yelling, livid. "I'm going to destroy her."

After stating this oh-so-incredibly-true sentence, he stormed out. Remus frowned. "Where is he going?" he asked.

"Like I'd know," Sirius replied.

Remus was worried, that Harry knew, but the worry vanished instants later. "In that state," the werewolf told himself aloud, "he won't be able to go too far."

He remained seated, to Harry's horror. Only, a minute or so later, Lily stepped in.

"Remus! What did you say to put him in such a mood?" she asked, furious. Harry stared at her eyes. They were angry, once again. He hated seeing his own features defigurated in such a way.

"He mentioned Thalia. I went on," he added to Lily, who understood.

"Don't mention her alright? Life will be better is we all forget her." These words were calm now, gentle. She was actually asking Remus to forget her existence. Harry, having experienced what the boy went through every time he saw Thalia, knew he couldn't. He was nevertheless grateful to see his mother act nicely again. He preferred guessing in her eye the twinkle of goodness he saw in every picture of her, than the one of fury.

"Anyways, I'll go take care of James… Good night boys." She smiled and exited, in a much slower pace this time. Harry could hear her footsteps in the tower, thought she had vanished from his sight the second she had left the room. He sighed, ready to leave the memory, but after a few seconds, he was surprised – and unhappy – to see that he was still surrounded by the same, stone walls, rather than by the train cabin. He understood why about a minute later. Lily stepped back into the room.

"Did James come back in here?"

Remus lifted his head once again, interrupting his study session, slightly annoyed, and replied a cold "No".

"Weird. The girls said he left just before I arrived, mumbling about having something to do."

"Didn't walk through this door. Good luck running around the castle grounds looking for him," Remus replied, emotionless.

Lily's shoulders fell. "Hell no," she said, decided. "He can find his own way out of the lake for tonight."

Remus gave her a small smile, which she saw. On that, she waved the two boys goodnight, and left. Remus threw his stack of papers on the floor, and fell on his bed. He spoke to Sirius, but Harry couldn't distinguish any of his words. He felt a heavy tug pull him towards the sky, and understood that the memory was finally over. The world blurred before his eyes, and suddenly the red and gold scenery erased, to give place to an chocolate environment: large brown loveseats, wood tables and walls, chocolate colored pillows. And a mass of brown hair sitting before him: Thalia. He focused on her silhouette. He couldn't distinguish her expression.

"I'm sorry," the teacher started.

Harry could only focus on her features. They were so ugly compared to the memory. The effects of Lupin's feelings had erased instantly, and it was a shock to Harry how not-beautiful his teacher was.

"It didn't explain anything," the boy said.

"I know, I'm so sorry."

"Anything…"

Harry felt sick. His pulse was frantic, he could feel his blood shooting rapidly through his veins. The blood that linked him to this horrible, and still inexplicable crime. His head was throbbing, heavy.

"It didn't explain anything…"


	24. Chapter 24

_Sorry for all the explanations… I understand it can get heavy, so I'll try lightening things up a bit! This is one of my favorite chapters…_

Harry oppened his eyes and saw a blurred world. World that swayed under his aching body. He was still in the train. He turned to his side, and found his glasses, neatly placed about a feet away from his head. Yep, definitely still in the train. The boy could guess the shadows of his suitcase on the wall opposite from him. He sat up, and saw he was covered by a green sheet. Though it proved his teacher was considerate, Harry simply couldn't bare seeing its vivid color stain his vision. He pulled it off, and threw it to the ground. If Thalia found it in such a place, he could blame heat. He was about to fall back asleep, when he realized he was now entirely covered in red. Normally, such a fact would have reassured him. Red represented his House, his beliefs, his friends. And his family. He wiggled himself out of the sheet, until it rested, shapeless, at his feet. His head fell, heavy, back on his pillow. Harry immediately closed his eyes. He didn't want to see its color.

Moments later – they could have been hours or seconds, Harry didn't know, nor cared – voices pulled the student out of his state of relative sleep. He rested in a partial state of consciousness, but he could easily distinguish what happened around him.

"… the other end," he heard Thalia say. His door was suddenly slid open with a rather loud scratching noise.

"Here he is," she added in a whisper.

"Sleeping?" Sirius asked, surprised. "I thought he'd be frantic."

"Yeah, well…" Thalia simply replied.

"Should I wake him up, or carry him to the car?" the man asked after a while.

Harry hated the idea of the two of them observing him in silence, but wasn't awake enough to mention such a fact.

"I guess you can wake him up, they'll be making such a racket when we arrive that he won't have choice once there. And he won't want to miss out on the fun."

"Alright." Sirius made a step forward, but Thalia stopped him.

"Wait, Black. I have to tell you something."

There was no sound. "I… I showed the boy Remus' memory. He was asking a ton of questions, and…"

"And you thought it would be great for James' son to believe his father was a monster?"

"No, actually, that wasn't my objective. He had so many questions to ask. You know, he deserves to be told everything about his past. They hide so much from him."

"It is for his own good. I know you think I'm just some runaway idiot but I know how psychology works. He needs a good Id if he wants a chance to succeed."

"Wow, Freud. You've been reading."

"Your surprise is insulting."

"I didn't mean it that way. Look, I know you're mad…"

"Pissed!"

"… and I understand why. But he wanted to know. And showing him Remus' point of view was the best way to keep things neutral."

"You just wanted to destroy another life. Now get away."

Thalia moved sideways, but Sirius added: "Away from his life. I'll take care of it. I'm the godfather. You're the Death Eater."

Harry was tapped delicately on the shoulder and oppened his eyes. Though he had heard him approaching, he was surprised to find Sirius right by his side, his face inches away from his. "Hey Harry. Ready to rock the night out?"

"Whaa?"

"We're in London. Five minutes away from the Headquarters. Everyone else arrived about an hour ago. The quicker you get up, the quicker we'll join them."

Harry got up and grabbed his suitcase, pulling it out of the net in which it rested, using all of his forces not to drop it on his own foot. Or to make any loud sound bound to wake up up for good. When he had the luggage in hand, it's weight threatening to rip his forearm off, he made a few steps towards the exit. "Erm, Harry, your glasses." The boy froze on the spot. He could guess his godfather was straight behind him. But he didn't want to turn around and recognize in his drawn, old features the face of the young teenager that had let his father commit the unmentionable. He swallowed with difficulty, forced a smile against his lips, and turned around. "Thanks," he said, grabbing the thin metal frame of his eye wear, "I was forgetting." He gave a small nod, and immediately turned his back on the man, his eyes having altogether set themselves on his face for about two and half seconds. He immediately marched out at a rapid rhythm seeing the heavy ball and chain that his suitcase was.

When he arrived outside, the fresh wind hit his cheeks and ignited a small spark of intelligence in his brain, which quickly spread, until his head was buzzing with activity. Harry's breath accelerated: panic was spreading in his body which was unable to deal with all the ideas that raced in his brain. Tears came up to his eyes. He wanted to pause the world outside, and stay alone. He didn't want to see Sirius and Lupin, didn't want to face Thalia, didn't want to be with his friends who would know something was wrong. We could barely swallow. He left the railroad station without knowing it, and found himself in a deserted parking lot. The silence and absence of matter reassured him. He then caught sight of the sole vehicle occupying the lot, a car so old it was probably one of collection. It was in great shape seeing its age. Behind the front window, Harry guessed Thalia's face. He didn't want to walk up to her, and so remained immobile. Sirius wasn't behind him, though normally he should have been following him. Maybe he had guessed his godchild needed peace of mind. Suddenly, the weight pulling down Harry's arm vanished. Though he felt a large wooden handle against his palm, it was as light as a feather. He looked up. Thalia had lifted her wand inside the car. The suitcase gave a little thug forward, insisting, but not violent. Harry let go of it. It flew slowly up to the car. The trunk oppened itself, and the floating object fell into it without a sound. The trunk then fell shut, the lid covering Harry's possessions. The teenager waited. He knew his teacher's action was only a way to relieve him from his burden. She didn't mind waiting for him. He could take his time. The boy looked behind his shoulder. Sirius was also taking an awful lot of time. He understood too. Or maybe he also needed to think. Just like Harry. Just like Thalia. All taking part in simultaneous individual introspections. Harry breathed deeply. He was fine now. The tears had gone, his heart had calmed down. The panic was still there, though it was diffuse. The ideas were still, and the headache that had started to obscure his thoughts was slowly withdrawing itself. He stared at the black, starless sky. He suddenly loved it, with it's total absence of colors. The fresh air was enough to set his mind back on track. He regretted to be the one stuck outside, while both of the adults could reflect in a warm, bug-free environment. The teenager walked up to the car.

He oppened the door opposite to Thalia, silently pushed the drivers seat forward so he could slip past it and install himself on the back seat. When he was done, Thalia pulled Sirius' seat back up. She oppened her mouth.

"Don't say you're sorry," Harry interrupted her before she even had time to speak. "I have nothing to forgive you. I just don't want to hear about it anymore."

"Perfect."

A few minutes later, Sirius was in the car, placing the key in the ignition. He glared at Thalia, and than gave Harry a comprehensive smile. The boy held his stare, but looked away the second he could. The drive was silent, from the train station to the Headquarters. The small cubicle was filled with tension. Finally, when the car was parked, and all it's occupants remained seated, Thalia spoke.

"You have a great car."

"Thanks. I spent the last year putting it back together."

"It's great."

"Thanks.

Harry rested silence, witnessing this strange scene, which he knew was meaningful but didn't know in which way.

"The color's really nice."

"Yeah. It thought black would be good. It's subtle."

"Yeah."

This strange peace offering was a balm to Harry's heart. This twisted reconciliation was what he needed to live through the night.

"Ready to go in?" Sirius asked, finally turning to stare at his interlocutor, having looked straight forward during the anterior conversation.

"I think so. You think it'll be cool?"

"Yeah, it'll be cool."

"I feel like in Pulp Fiction," Thalia added with a smile.

Sirius gave out a small bark-like chuckle. "True. But in that case Harry should fear for his skull."

They both smiled, and finally Sirius oppened his door. Thalia imitated him, and soon Harry was able to leave the confined area of the car.

Sirius handed him his suitcase, which was still incredibly light. This time, Harry was able to look at him. He gave him a smile. The man passed his arms around his shoulders. "I guess I should ask you to forgive me."

"Don't ask me to forgive you for what happened years ago."

"I'd still like to know you forgave me."

"Don't blame yourself."

Harry heard a small bang, and understood Thalia had entered the Headquarters to give them some privacy.

"I'm not to one you should apologize to, Sirius."

"I know. The real apologies are coming. It would be easier if she wasn't with Snape though. Anyways," Sirius said, shrugging, "I also have to ask you to forgive me for not telling you about this."

"Hey, you couldn't have told me when I was twelve."

"Yeah, I know." He hugged Harry harder, and when he loosened his embrace, he added: "Are you glad you know?"

"Yeah, I'm glad I know."

Harry pulled himself away from his godfather. "Sirius, there is no chance this memory could have changed the fact that I consider you as family, family I love."

The man gave him a small smile.

"Mind if I give you your Christmas gift in advance? I planned on doing so before, but now I'm not sure…"

"Hey, you're offering a present. How can I say no?" Harry joked.

Sirius smiled at him, and guided him to the entrance. When he oppened the door, a wave of chatter and yelling hit his ears. "Wo!" Harry let out. By the time the door was closed, he had been infected by the contagious laughter. "What did you do about your mother?" the boy asked.

"Permaglued the curtains to the walls. She's working on it though. We'll only have peace until New Year's. By then, she'll have escaped, and she'll have found a way of preventing us from doing it again. And she'll be more pissed than ever."

"Ouch. Don't want to be there when she manages to get out of it."

"You won't. You'll all have left. It'll only be me and Mama Black. Oh it's fine," he added, seeing Harry's eyes widen with horror and pity, "it'll be a form of company."

He walked by the heavy black curtains, and Harry followed him: he could hear the strangled voice of Mrs. Black coming from behind them. Sirius walked up to the dining room door, from where his friends' voices emerged, but instead of entering it, took his left and marched up the stairs. Harry followed once again.

"You can drop your suitcase here," Sirius said once they reached the third floor, indicating a room which was already filled with what Harry guessed were Ron's, Fred's and George's suitcases. He threw his own on one of the beds, and the returned to the staircase. He finally arrived to the last floor, on which were two rooms. Sirius', and Regulus'. The boy remembered the second one: it was where he had spoken to Thalia for the first time. He wanted to peek inside, for no particular reason, but his godfather stepped into his own bedroom instead. Harry chose to do so himself. He walked in the chaotic room, and observed it was messier than the first time he had visited it, the first time he had been into the Headquarters, last summer. At least Sirius had been busy enough to forget to clean up after himself. The man stepped into a closet so full its doors wouldn't even close, and vanished from Harry's sight. The boy therefore set his attention on the old television that occupied a corner of the room. Besides it, on the wall, was taped a list of each and every victory of the Russian hockey team, from Junior to Major leagues, followed by the same type of list, this time dedicated to the Canadian team.

"Still fond of hockey?" he asked distantly in direction of the closet.

"Oh, you should have seen the final! It was epic, Harry, epic!"

The boy laughed, and Sirius finally emerged from the maze of random objects that filled his closet.

"Here you go," he told his godchild, handing him a large book.

"Thanks," Harry said hesitantly, not knowing what he held in hand.

"Open it, you'll understand."

Harry did so. On the first page, in golden letters that had not been tarnished by the years, were written the words: _Hogwarts, 1980-1987_. Under the letters was the school's logo, printed in black ink. Harry glanced at his Godfather.

"It might not be the good night to give you that, but I think it might be better, somehow, that you have it now."

Harry raised an intrigued eyebrow. "I don't know why," Sirius admitted, "but I think it's best. And you'll see, in a few years you'll be glad to have it."

"I'm already glad to have it, Sirius," Harry reassured him.

He flipped a few pages, and quickly found a picture of his father when he was about twelve or thirteen. "It's a strange thing," he thought, "to get to see you're parents when they were younger than you are." On the picture, his father was standing besides Sirius and a few other people Harry couldn't recognize. And God, did they look young! Their round, childish faces were shining, illuminated by huge, infant smiles. He flipped the pages a few other times. Group pictures, by house, taken by the side of the lake, followed by a picture of all the students together. Harry couldn't miss his father. He looked exactly like the memory, taking up a big chunk of the photo, his arms spread, in front of the crowd. He switched pages quickly. He arrived on a double-page entitled _Young Merlins. _It was covered in pictures of fifth, sixth and seventh grade wearing bright green, red, yellow or blue robes. The same robes that Remus had been wearing in the memory. "So that was the contest he was referring to," he noted. It wasn't long that Harry had spotted his old teacher in one of the pictures. He was right beside Thalia, who repeatedly smashed her hand on a big black button and shouted out an answer Harry couldn't hear. The next picture was probably taken the same day – at least it had the same background. The Gryffondors were holding a large trophy, elated. Remus seemed as happy as he had been when Thalia had entered the room in the memory. The woman was there, too. Harry assumed it must have been fifth grade. He smiled. But his smile was soon erased. A few inches lower, a picture was entitled: _Seventh grade – Finals_. Two teams of four sat each at one table, facing each other. All the students had a large black button in front of them, resting on the table. On one side was Remus, dressed in red. On the other, Thalia, her silhouette lost in a gigantic green robe. She was incredibly thin, emaciated, and the contour of her eyes were darkened, tired. She looked dead. He closed the school album with a loud clack.

"Thanks Sirius. I'll give it a longer look at school."

The man smiled at his godchild, and the boy could see he was slightly hurt. Maybe it wasn't the good night to receive such a gift, after all. "No," he thought, "tonight I learned more about it, but I'll still know about it for the rest of my life. It's not shock. It's just… truth. And truth can't wear off, even with time."

"Want to go downstairs?" he asked aloud.

"Yeah, good idea. Before they empty all my bottles," Sirius added with a smile.

Right before Harry left the room, the animagi rummaged through his drawers, until he found what he had been looking for: a brand new bottle of FireWhiskey.

"Lets get downstairs, quickly," he told Harry with a wink. "It's time you taste this."

Choosing to play innocent rather than admitting to his godfather that he was already a big fan of "this", Harry ran towards the stairs, throwing his present on his suitcase as he passed the third floor. Within seconds, he found himself before the dining room door. Excitement ran through his veins. He could feel it buzzing in the tips of his fingers when he kicked the door in (adrenalin was probably responsible for that) and joined his friends. The main table was covered with about a dozen plates, so big Harry believed they belonged to Hagrid, filled to the very edge with foods of all sorts. There were no utensils to be seen: instead, every inch of the table which was not covered with food was covered with bottles or glasses. "Harry!" Ron, Fred, George, Charlie and Bill chanted when he entered the room. The boy let out a loud laugh, and joined his friends, some he had not seen in years. They were gathered around a small table, on which rested a clear bottle without any label, surrounded by six small shooter glasses, and Harry was glad to be able to talk of meaningless subjects with them. Only, after a while, the boy started looking around, his old habits taking over. Molly was at the other end of the dining room, not exactly at ease. She threw worried glances here and there, mostly focusing on her boys. Only, Arthur suddenly emerged from the kitchen, and grabbed his wife by the waist. He whispered something in her ear, probably urging her to calm down, and so she did. She sat down on a chair by his side, and suddenly stopped caring about the amount of alcohol in her progeny's blood. Hermione and Ginny were together, laughing loudly, both with a simple Butterbear in hand, not far away from Remus, Tonks and Thalia. The two women were chatting with animation, while Remus rested silently in a large armchair, and Harry thought it was the right moment to talk to his old teacher.

"Hey, Remus!" he said, as he arrived beside him.

"Hey Harry! Merry Christmas!"

"Oh yeah," he laughed. "That. Well, Merry Chritmas to you too, best wishes."

"How was you're year up to now?"

"Erm… full? It's not important. Look, I have to leave soon, I can't let the other guys get ahead in the number of drinks (on that Remus laughed) but I wanted to tell you myself, while I'm sober… I saw your memory. The one of what happened right before Thalia was attacked." He had prepared in advance, knowing just what words to use. "I want to talk to you about it, someday. Not tonight, but… Yeah."

"Alright Harry. You're brave, you know. And so mature for your age," he pointed out. "Ah, I guess tonight isn't the right time for compliments from an old man. Go and destroy your liver."

Harry laughed loudly, and left. When he had reached the other end of the room, he saw, firstly, that Thalia had left, and secondly, that Tonks was now sitting on Remus' lap, her head buried in his neck, both of them talking as if in their own world. Harry's eyes suddenly grew wide. And suddenly, he was happy, happy for this man he considered family. Filled with joy, he decided he was now ready to gulp down whatever that clear bottle contained. He quickly walked towards the gathering of boys: he could see they were getting impatient. Still, as he passed close to the kitchen, he saw Thalia and Sirius were talking. He felt the urge to slow down.

"It was for me, right?" the woman asked.

"Of course it was for you! Who else knows about hockey in the bloody Order."

Thalia laughed.

"And what did you mean?"

"You know what I ment. You're smart."

"I ment… how did you find out? Exactly."

"With everything that goes on under this bloody roof I'm bound to find out a few things… Dumbledore dropped by a few weeks ago…"

Harry walked away, at the beginning of Sirius' tale. The mystery of the letter had been resolved. It was now time to drink. He sighed in pleasure. I was great to be able to leave his mind on the shelf once in a while to be a sixteen year-old boy. He finally reached the table.

"Finally!" Charlie cried. "I wanted all you boys to taste this."

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"It was once commercialized under the name of Northern Lights... But then was removed from the shelves, being considered as too strong."

Charlie poured out some of the transparent liquid, and as it hit the sides of the glasses, small flames appeared in it. They remained there, bright and orange, floating at the alcohol surface.

"Where d'you get it?" George said, eagerness piercing through his voice.

"Home made," the eldest Weasley brother replied with a large smile.

"Hey, is that Lights?" Sirius asked as he passed by. "Hey, Rem, want to bring a few memories back to life?"

Remus arrived rather quickly. "Wo, Northern Lights! Who learned to make some?"

As Charlie raised his hand, Remus shouted: "Thalia! Remember when you had brewed a whole cauldron of Northern Lights?"

"Yeah…" she shouted from across the room.

"Why don't you come and see if this one can measure up!"

She was by the table in seconds. As Sirius magically summoned three other glasses, she asked Charlie. "Mind if I taste?"

"Of course, I didn't know we had an expert with us tonight," he said with a wink.

She smiled, took one of the glasses, and quickly gulped it down. She then banged the glass on the table. "Wow!" was her first comment. "That is great for your age. It's as good as the one I do now..."

"Why, thank you!" Charlie said rather honestly.

"But save it." As she spoke, she took out her wand, and transferred the content of the glasses back in the bottle. "What if I told you that I happen to know England's best Potions Master, and that he has recently refurnished our personal reserve?"

The boys, adults like teenagers, were staring at her with wide, shiny eyes. She snapped her fingers and a large flask appeared on the table. She poured some in each and every glass, and above each pool of clear Northern Lights were burning, well, northern lights, entire curtains of colorful flames.

"So. Ready to taste _real_ fire?"


	25. Chapter 25

_Last time I published I decided it wasn't worth posting these chapters anymore. And now, change a tack, I seem to believe it is. Between rotting here or in my PC, the difference isn't so big._

When Harry reached the kitchen, after much tripping, falling, fumbling around and stumbling down the eternal flight of stairs, he was surprised to find it was rather full. He had expected being the only one up, seeing it was incredibly early – almost noon. He looked around the room, rather neddlessly, seeing his ears already told him what he wanted to know: it was full, and loud. The morning noises filled his head with pain that trobbed in his skull. His mouth was dry, doughy.

"Can I…" he started. Seconds later, he held a cup of coffee in hand. He brought the warm liquid to his lips, and swallowed it slowly. Now it was all better.

He looked up, to see Lupin was greating him with a huge smile. "I was just about to wake you up."

"I probably would have murdered you," he replied with honesty.

Tonks laughed very loudly at his comment, a clear laugh that echoed in the kitchen, making Harry cringe. Embarassed, and probably affected by the half-dozen of angry looks that were shot in her direction, she focused on the dirty dishes stacked up in the sink, blushing. Almost immediately, the silence was destroyed by a large crashing sound – the sound that procelain makes when it is dropped on the ground.

"Ugh!" cried Ron, softly. "Please, nothing loud." He was sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by the twins and his two older brothers. Charlie seemed fine, grinning widely, a cup of coffee in hand, and though Bill didn't reach his elder's level of casualty and nonchalance, he nevertheless appeared to be rather lively. The three younger Weasleys, on the other hand, were beat. Just as bad as Harry was.

Remus chuckled. "We better get you guys up and running before twelve."

"Good luck with that" Harry croaked.

"Oho, we don't have choice. Arthur told Molly that he had replaced the Nothern Lights with simple Fire Whiskey."

"And?" Geroge asked.

"And that's what convinced her of letting you drink some. If she sees you this way, she'll understand it wasn't true and…"

On that Ron got on his feet, ripped the coffee pot out of the coffee maker and placed it in evidence on the table. "If we can't drink this as quickly as we drank yesterday, we'll be fine."

Remus chuckled once again, and poured more of the black beverage everyone's cups. Apparently, he didn't trust the young ones around hot liquids.

Sirius arrived in the kitchen, radiant. "RISE AND SHINE!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. Harry and Ron jumped, both spilling boiling coffee on their hands. The burn quickly spread in Harry's cells, followed by the pain. He took out his wand, and conjured a healing spell. "Nice going," he told his godfather angrily as he helped Ron, who hadn't had the same reflex as him and was still staring at his crimson limb. "I just wanted to tease our little guys," he replied, ruffling the boy's jet hair with both hands. "Celebrate your new discovery."

"Of which I want the recipe, by the way," Bill told Charlie with a huge smile and a small twinkle in his eye.

Sirius still observed the four exhausted boys. "Spent the whole night up?"

"No," Ron replied, "went to sleep same time as you."

"For once, even these two didn't feel like talking," Harry added, pointing a lazy finger at the twins who didn't have enough energy to react.

"Ah well. I guess we can't all be extremely resistant!" Sirius let out, as Remus rolled his eyes. The werewolf felt the urge to cut short to his friend's boastfullness.

"We weren't always like that… Remember…"

"Summer '85!" they both let out with much vigor, as Harry, Ron, Fred and George groaned in anger.

"Yeah that was great, eh Thalia?" Sirius said. He looked around. "She isn't awake yet?" he asked, puzzled.

"As you can see, she isn't."

"Are you sure?"

"Well…" Remus simply stated, oppening his arms wide, to show she was obviously not in the room.

"But… she was sleeping in Regulus' room, and when I woke up I looked inside and she wasn't there." He still arbored his puzzled expression.

"Why d'you check if she was there?" Remus asked.

"I felt like shouting very loudly," he explained with a childish smile.

The werewolf laughed. "Thalia and I switched. In was in Regulus' bedroom."

Sirius seemed more baffled than ever. "And why would you do that? You enjoy green bedding with snakes on it?"

"No," he chuckled, "Thalia offered that she take the small bed on the guys' floor and gave me the bigger one."

"Why?"

Remus was uneasy, and Tonks flew to the rescue. "So I could leave my tiny bed on the girls' floor to join him."

Sirius let out a small "Oh", and then suddenly had his attention caught by his fascinating cup of coffee. Apparently he felt uneasy revealing his friend's personnal life that way. Remus, on the other hand, was not at all indisposed by the annoucement he had just been forced to make. Tonks slipped her small body under his arm and rested her head on his chest, naturally, as if Lupin's body was fit to accommodate hers. Harry smiled at Remus, who smiled back, an honest, beaming smile. The boy was glad to know he had guessed right the night before. Finally, the future was mending the past. One of the many problems Harry had witnessed when he had oppened a window on twenty years ago was settled.

On that happy thought, Thalia walked in the kitchen. She marched straight to the fridge, oppened it, and took out some juice, to then find a chair and sloushed on it. Harry was about to comment on how impolite her entrance had been when he realized he had done just the same.

"Why hello my little morning sunshine," Sirius joked. Thalia smiled back, and then took out her wand, conjuring a glass to her. As it floated from a cupboard to her hand, she greeted everyone with much sarcastic liveliness. "Good morning everyone."

"Good morning Miss Beauregard," the four younger boys joked simultaneously.

"Here, it's Thalia," she replied. "In that state, anyways," she added, "it's only Thalia."

She poured herself orange juice, which she gulped down gluttonsouly. She then let out a small satisfied smile.

"I thought you were thougher than that," Sirius remarked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're not in as bad shape as our little novices here," he explained, pointing at the boys who seemed to be awakening from the dead, "but I thought you'd be as good as new this morning."

"So then you're wake-up plan wasn't pure evil," Remus let out.

Thalia raised an intrigued eyebrow, then stared at Remus, to then gaze at Sirius… and immediately focus her attention back on Remus, exhultant. "Finally!" she said, gesticulating in his direction. "When did you admit it?"

"When Sirius found out you hadn't been sleeping in Regulus' room."

"Oh. So I helped," she added with a wink.

"I guess."

"Then you have to tell me what wake-up plan Sirius had in mind."

Remus laughed once again – Harry was glad to see that the morning was cheerful, but would have preferd it to be _silent_ and cheerful – but was interrupted by Sirius, who once again bore a five-year-old grin. "I'll tell her. I wanted to enter your room, and scream."

Thalia giggled and then lazily threw a crumpled doily at his direction. He dodged it with a smile, which she returned, an amused look on her face. Harry could not believe the scene he was witnessing.

"So, if you're not hungover, since apparently you aren't… what's wrong with you?"

Thalia waited for a few seconds to answer. "You know how they tell you, when you're a kid, that alcool amplifies your emotions?"

"Erm, yeah."

"Well I was worried sick about Sev. And now it's worse."

She curled up in a little ball, her knees resting under her chin, her arms wrapped around her legs, and tears formed themselves at the corner of her eyes.

"Hey," Lupin intervened, "he'll be fine. It's St-Mungos."

"That's why I decided to join the Order, Remus. Because there are some things St-Mungos just can't fix."

Harry looked at Ron, puzzled, and only saw in his face the reflection of his own interrogations. He starred at Sirius. "Frank and Alice" his godfather silently mouthed, as Lupin rushed to reach Thalia's side. "Yeah, but you saw Snape. He was conscious. He could talk, he was himself."

"Yeah… But that's what's worrying. What's wrong? Why doesn't the healing spell work? Why won't natural healing work!?" she exclaimed, fighting against the tears.

"Miss Beauregard," he said, lightly, "I don't think this represents you very well. Sobbing?"

"Hell yeah, Remus. If you knew how much I changed."

"Some things don't change. You're a fighter. You're a Gryffondor who won't abandon."

"A Gryffondor," she laughed, whipping the water off her face with the back of her hand. "It would drive Snape mad to know you're telling me this right now." She laughed once again. "You're ridiculous, Rem."

"Yeah, but at least you're smilling."

Thalia' cheeks were suddenly tinted with a suddle hint of crimson. She smiled and held Remus' hand in hers, for a rather long time, very tightly. They then let go, sharing a mutual smile. The man backed away, and reintegrated his place by Tonks' side, who gave Thalia an encouraging smile.

"Alright so, it's all happy happy happy on the adult side, Thalia and Sirius aren't shouting at each other ("Luckilly" Ron let out) Remus and Tonks are dating and all of you guys are sharing good memories," Fred enumerated. "Can we have a bit of attention now?"

"Huh!" Thalia laughed, "You kids _always_ have attention. For once it's our time to have a bit of fun."

"Hurray for '87!" Sirius let out softly for the guys' sake, lifting his coffe cup high in the air. Thalia and Remus followed, and so did Tonks, adding a small "And '92!" to include herself. Charlie observed silently, and then asked: "Do we count too?"

"Can you stand straight?" Thalia asked.

"Hurray for '98 and '99!" was his only answer, which he uttered while lifting both his and Bill's coffee cups.

"And hurray for '83," Arthur added when he entered the kitchen. He picked up an empty glass from the cupboard just in time to cheer with the others. He then looked at his sons. "You can let go of the coffee boys. Your mother will be sleeping for a good part of the day." He erased the question marks in their eyes by adding: "You're not the only ones who can celebrate."

"Want some juice, Arthur?" Thalia offered.

"Yeah. Want to go to St-Mugos, Thalia?" he added, imitating her tone of voice.

She jumped off her chair like a jack out of a box. "You'd drive me there?!"

"Well I thought we could all go pay a little visit to Snape. And Dumbledore told me Neville might be there. It would be nice if he could come spend a day or two with us."

Thought Harry was displeased by Miss Beauregard's joyous – loud – reaction to the news, he was happy that his schoolmate might come and celebrate with them for a little while. The mention of Frank and Alice had reminded him that not everyone was going to spend such cheerful holidays.

***

Almost everyone was ready to leave, but Harry had to find it: the photo album. In the corridor, he could hear Ron and Hermione arguing.

"Alcool is the cause of many of the horrors that roam this earth," the girl let out.

Harry couldn't disagree with that. Not after seeing in which state his father had… The knot in his throat tightened, and returned to his search. "Think happy thoughts," he told himself. "That's why your looking for the album. To remember of those happy thoughts."

He finally put his hand on it's black cover page, just as Ron spoke. "We just intended on having fun, no harm was done, we didn't do or say anything stupid or disregardfull."

Harry couldn't disagree with that either.

"That's what you think," Hermione replied. There was a silence in the corridor, and Harry chocked on the thousands of giggled that tried escaping his throat. He didn't remember exactly, but Charlie had told him and the twins that Ron had found great interest in Hermione the previous night. He opened the yearbook, his eyes lingering for a few seconds on the golden writing spread over the first page. He flipped to what he believed must have been the section dedicated to the year '85. Summer '85.

"We even managed to slip a few pictures of the event in the year album. They were pissed when they found out their beloved school was linked to underage drinking," Sirius had explained, laughing. "You can check it out later."

But Harry wasn't patient enough to wait for later. The euphory of the morning might have time to wear off until then, and Harry wanted to see a picture of his father with Thalia while it lasted. Quickly enough, he found one. It was easy to do so, seeing it was the only picture featuring a forest as background. Harry smiled. He had hit the jackpot.

James' arms were wrapped around Thalia's shoulders and both were smilling to the camera, beside Remus and Lupin who were engaged in a conversation apparently so captivating they simply could not postpone it in order to face whoever was taking the picture. James suddenly lifted Thalia up in the air, and she started screaming, grabbing Sirius' arm. Harry's godfather then turned in surprise right in time for the camera to capture his deer-in-the-healights expression. Thalia was finally placed back on the ground so the routine could start again and again, immortalised by the picture. Harry smiled. Though the very image didn't make any sense – it had been taken less than two years before any link had been permanently destroyed before the two friends – to Harry, it did. And it was not only explained by the fact that when this picture was taken, if Thalia was correct in her date approximation, his parents weren't together yet. It was a simple as this: James did not hate Thalia in her every day life. He hated her on a higher, more symbolic level.

"Yes, Ron, you did say that."

"I didn't even see you last night!" the boy protested. Harry shut the album and threw it on his bed, delecting in this audio-performance his two friends were delivering.

"Yes you did, Ron, when you and Harry came to see Ginny and I."

Harry's laughter died on the spot. He had talked to Ginny, last night?

"Erm, Harry, could I talk to you for a while?"

"Ginny!" The boy jumped to his feet. He turned on the spot, not even bothering to erase the panicked look on his features. "Can we talk?" she repeated.

"Hell no, hell no, hell no, hell no," he thought. "Of course," he said. "Where?"

"Well Dad and Thalia are in the kitchen so I thought we could walk up the stairs until we find some place where we can be alone."

Alone. Harry suddenly loathed that word. "Sure." As he walked out the room and circled his two friends, he saw Ron slowly mouth the words "Save me". He couldn't help him: he needed to be saved too. Hermione was right. Damn alcohol.

They walked up to the next floor, and found, on the right, an open door, and on the left, a closed one. "It's the other "boys" floor. Remus, well Thalia slept here, Bill and Charlie in here," Ginny explained. She peeked inside the door on the right. "Miss Beauregard's room. Maybe we can borrow my brothers'…"

"Private lessons!" they both heard emerging from the door on the left. It was Charlie.

"Shh! You bloody idiot! Whisper!"

"Oh come on," Charlie continued, ignoring his brother's warning, "they'll understand it's just a cover when they'll realize you don't speak a single word of french after a year of… private lessons!" he burst into laughter. "Actually, no, you'll be great at french!" Charlie's giggles were ended by a low thud – probably a pillow. Ginny looked puzzled. "Let's go higher…" she proposed, climbing the stairs two by two before he had approved.

They arrived to the next floor. "That's our floor, Hermione and I, and Tonks." Tonks' door was closed, and both teenagers guessed it was occupied by humans who were, most probably, equipped with a pair of ears. Ginny sighed. "Up we go!"

They finally arrived at the last floor. "Oh no," Ginny whined, "Sirius is there." Harry sighed, desperatly wanting to avoid finding another staircase under his feet. He took Ginny's hand. "We'll be fine in here," he said, pulling her into Regulus' room. She laughed. Something moved inside Harry. "Sure?" she asked.

"Yeah, I've already been in here."

"Rooms don't work like Fidelius charms, you know."

They both smiled, standing still in the room. "So?" Harry asked. "What stupid thing did I say last night?"

She giggled once again, and her hair went in motion like a flamming cascade. "Nothing. You stayed silent. But I can read eyes." The temperature in the room suddenly rised by half-a-dozen degrees. "I broke up with Eric, just so you know."

"E… Eric?"

She sighed. "The Ravenclaw."

"Oh. That's cool," Harry replied, pathetically trying to sound aloof.

"Harry, I'm not here to play games with you. I just want you to know. If I happen to be right, well, I thought you might be happy to know." The boy threw a quick glance out the window. It was still the middle of the day, and yet, everything was dark in his mind. He turned back to face Ginny. Maybe it was a second-hand effect of the Northern Lights, but he could litterally see stars shinning in her eyes. Her lips seemed so soft. And the ringing words that hit her ears were even softer. For a second he tried resisting, but then logic destroyed all chances of restraint. She knew, and she wanted it to happen as badly as he did. He bent forward, and placed a delicate kiss on the edge of her lips. He could feel them curling upwards as she smiled, and didn't oppose any resistance when she gave a small push in direction of the bed, sending both of them tumbling down on the soft mattress. Suddenly, with her body over his, he felt as thought their mouths' had been welded together.

Ginny suddenly sat up. "We're leaving soon," she whispered, breathing heavily. On that, she departed, leaving Harry completely dazed, drowning in a green sea of snakes.


	26. Chapter 26

_Mwahaha, I'm testing my suspense skills with you today :) In this waaay too long chapter (I'm sorry!!)_

With the print of Ginny's lips lingering on his burning mouth, Harry contemplated the rows of white doors that passed before his eyes – eyes that couldn't see anything else than the inside of his brain, on which was projected an image of Ginny. His steps were an automatism, a simple routine of left, right, left, right. Once in a while, a turn would offer some form of distraction, and, three times during the entire walk, Harry was blessed with a flight of stairs – a real challenge for his brain and feet. Soon enough, though, he was forced to stop, the crowd of people he was following having done so. He looked around, and saw the world he was about to enter was also a host of Ginny, and though this Ginny wasn't kissing Harry, she was flesh and bone, and far more beautiful than any memory. Harry was satisfied. He looked around. The rather large group of members of the Order had stopped in a doorway, which led to a small room – Snape's, most likely. Harry was rather close to the door, standing behind the adults only. Behind him were massed the five other Hogwarts students, all intently absorbed by their doing nothing whatsoever. Bill and Charlie had left the group a while ago, when they had entered St-Mugos. Both of them wanted to pay a visit to a few of their friends who had been resting at the hospital some for a year or so, some for only a few months, and many for years now. Ah, the dangers of dragon taming. Stuck between tall backs and silent teenagers, Harry pouted with impatience. Without waiting a second more, he slithered his way in front of the pack.

Thalia was walking gingerly towards a bed surrounded by a white curtain. A nurse was standing not far away from her, but apparently couldn't care less about the woman: she had her two fingers pressed on a patient's arm, and was staring blindly at her wristwatch, counting the beats. The patient in question was sitting on his bed, which was beside the tiny window that somehow managed to shower the entire room with sunlight. He was pale, and immobile. Harry wondered for a second how in Merlin's name the tall witch could find a heartbeat somewhere in the livid carcass of the man. Only, his interrogations were cut short by a cry of surprise, that escaped from Thalia's lips as she tore the curtain open and jumped on the mattress that had been up until then concealed by the white sheet. Seconds later, she was laying on Snape's body, her arms between his back and the bed, and her mouth blend with his. As Harry regretted leaving his old, blind point of view, the tall nurse let go of the pale man's arm and ran towards Snape. "Get off that bed!" she shrieked in a high-pitched voice. "I won't have anyone killing my patients!"

Thalia put and end to the kiss but remained, stretched out, on the bed. "Don't worry, I don't mean him no harm," she whispered with a smile. Snape's face was close to hers, and both seemed radiant.

"You might not kill him, but you'll send a few of us to our graves," Sirius said, cutting short to their moment of euphoria. Sirius was smiling. Snape, on the other hand, suddenly stiffened. "It's alright love," Thalia started as she turned his face in her direction, forcing him to gaze straight into her eyes. "Last night we smoked the peace pipe."

"I don't know what was in that pipe, but it must have been very, very strong," Snape replied, coughing a sarcastic giggle, and turning to observe Sirius with barely hidden disdain. "No, love," Thalia said, forcing him to face her once again. "It was a true, honest reconciliation."

"We don't have the same crimes to erase."

"Ah, but the tide of support will be strong enough to erase them all."

There was a short silence in the room.

"What?" Snape finally asked.

"I'll explain later. Sadly, there is zero poetry in you, my love." On that, Snape simply shut his eyelids. "Well," Sirius started, considering their conversation was over, "that was quicker than I thought it would be."

Thalia laughed as Snape oppened his eyes and stood up. "I told you his skull wasn't that thick. Sirius doubted that you'd accept this peace offering as quickly, or at least," she explained for the confused man's benefit, "not until you knew about every little word enclosed in it."

"Well then, I guess I'm not so bad."

"Not so bad at all," Thalia added with a smile, pulling Snape down towards the bed, her lips approaching his.

"DON'T GET ANY CLOSER TO MY PATIENT!" The nurse picked up what looked like a bed sheet and frantically waved it in Thalia's direction, as if she had been shooing flies away. Thalia smiled, got up, and walked away from the bed, in her friends' direction. She gave Snape a wink, and the man simply smiled back.

"I'm happy to see you have Severus' well-being at heart," she told the witch, who was now magically erasing the creases on the sheet.

"Oh, yes, Madam Demetear has taken great care of me. Consequently, my leave is soon enough… When again, Madam Demetear?"

The nurse rolled her eyes, annoyed. "Like you didn't know already, Mister Snape. Today, at four thirty."

Miss Beauregard's eyes widened instantly, as she stood, jaw-dropped but nevertheless radiant. As she slightly moved towards the bed, hinting towards Snape, the nurse threw herself between her and the one she apparently considered "her" patient. "No you don't! You'll have plenty of time for that AFTER his leave!" Thalia smiled, apparently finding Madam Demetear's zeal rather amusing. "Alright. I'll let him rest in peace."

As Snape muttered a low "Way to make me sound dead!", the nurse replied: "I don't trust you." She was glaring at the woman, apparently trying to size her up, and apparently not liking the conclusions she made from said evaluation. Sirius placed one of his large hands on one of Thalia's shoulders. "Don't worry mam', we'll make sure she stays out of the bed. I for myself do not want to see that again."

The nurse moved her radar a few inches away, taking Sirius as a target this time. Sirius froze, suddenly remembering he wasn't supposed to be seen, well, anywhere were civilization had its mark. Everyone imitated him as they made the same reflection, a second later. Two nervous blinks of an eye later, her inspection was done. "Alright. I'll be back in half an hour for the last checkup." On that, she left, still eying everyone suspiciously. As she threw her dirty look on Ron, he frowned. "Now, what did I do?" Thalia was as insulted as Ron. "She trusts a runaway criminal, murderer of twelve, more than me?"

"Hey, we should consider ourselves lucky she didn't recognize he was a runaway criminal murderer of twelve," Remus pointed out.

"Guys, you sound like I actually did it!" Sirius complained.

"Oh please, the whole "innocence" thing is simply futile!" Tonks joked.

"Hum, I think we have more important subjects to discuss," Arthur pointed out.

"True," Thalia said, a frown suddenly erasing any joy from her features. Arthur nodded, and then turned on the spot. "Hey kids! Why don't you go ask the receptionist if she can help you find Neville? I think they have a magical GPS."

"A what?" Fred asked as all of the younger members of the order suddenly went frantic.

"It's one of these muggles devices that tells you exactly where you are!" Arthur exclaimed, happy to see for once his wife would not cut short to his celebration of the muggle world.

"Why, their eyes aren't good enough to do the job for them?" George replied, starting a wave of laughter that could still be heard as the group of students turned the corner and exited the corridor. Arthur was still astonished by his own children's lack of intrest in the muggle world. "At least they're gone!" Sirius finally exclaimed, partly to comfort his friend and partly to bring the conversation back on tracks.

All of the adults entered the room, some sitting on the chairs scathered here and there, others standing in corners. "So, what was wrong?" Thalia burst.

"Why didn't the nurse tell us?" Sirius asked, intrigued.

"Why do you even care?!" Thalia replied.

"No Thalia, it's relevent," Snape said. "Dumbledore had to make sure this information didn't leave the hospital. Only a few Healers were allowed near me… though their assistance was not needed. Officially, I have a bronchitis-like infection caused by an unknown potion supply."

"Can he be trusted?" Remus asked, gesturing towards the man Snape was sharing his room with.

"He's a medical conundrum, lost each and every one of his senses about a month ago. Dumbledore thought him to be safe." All the members of the Order present had to agree with the man's judgement.

"Ok, so, what do you have, for real?" Thalia asked, getting impatient.

***

"Neville!" the group of kids shouted as the young boy stepped out of the hospital washrooms. The student paused for about five seconds, and then let a smile make its way to his lips. "Hey you guys! What are you doing here?" Five mouths suddenly went in action, trying to deliver an answer to that question. As Neville struggled to catch one trail of voice amidst the others, Harry thought it was a good thing they had found their friend emerging from a bathroom – rather than in his parents' room. Seconds later, Neville abandonned the idea of understanding a single word being pronounced around him, and waved at Harry, who was standing behind the pack of students. "How are you going?" he asked, as everyone else ceased talking.

"I'm fine," Harry replied. "We're here to visit Snape. How are you?"

"Great." Harry understood why he, on the other hand, did not want to expose the reason of his visit.

"Hey, do you want to come and spend a few days of the Christmas vacations with us? We have some extra space and thought it might be nice."

Neville grinned widely. "Are you serious?"

"Of course!"

"Well then, yeah, sure! I just have to talk to my grandmother, but she'll be fine with it, I'm sure." He immediately ran off.

"Why is it that you always have to talk?" Fred asked.

Harry laughed. " Because I don't mind waiting." Everyone giggled.

"Oh dear God, George, tell me now, is it that I just caught a glimpse of Heaven, or is our cousin Victoria in room 542," Fred asked, dramatizing his every words.

"No, it's Victoria."

"Fiouf, I thought for a moment I was stuck with boring Heaven."

"You're kidding, right?" Ron asked his two older brothers.

"Dude, even we know you don't kid with someone like Victoria."

"She's more than a body, you know. She's really nice," Ginny pointed out.

"Ginny," Fred explained with an exagerated sigh of despair, "one day you'll understand there are some people you just HAVE to kiss."

The three Weasley brothers walked away as Ginny and Harry blushed. "I better go and make sure they don't harass the poor girl," she said as she litterally ran away from Harry.

"I hope she's not actually their _cousin_ Victoria," Hermione said. Harry laughed. He then switched to a more serious matter. "Hey, Hermione?"

"Um?" She was trying to stare into Victoria's room. "Wow, she _is_ incredibly pretty!"

"Hermione!" Harry caught her attention once again.

"Sorry."

"When they come back, can you tell them I went downstairs?"

"Wait, what?"

"I'm going back to Snape's room."

"Harry! Stop eavesdropping!"

"It's for Dumbledore. He asked me to check on Thalia."

"Harry are you stupid? The room is filled with members of the Order, Dumbledore'll know about this in less than an hour, and he'll know about the entire thing, not about a few sentences you caught here and there."

"Alright then, it's for me! Just… cover up, please." The boy walked away before Hermione had time to complain. He nevertheless stopped when she called his name, as he was about to enter the elevator that would bring him back to floor 7.

"What?"

"Promise you'll tell me everything later."

***

"It was a spell. A simple spell. _Resisterat purgare_."

Thalia was astonished, as all the other occupants of the room looked simply puzzled. "Erm, what spell?" Tonks asked.

"Severus created that one. Years ago," Thalia explained.

"I guess you can say he's had a taste of his own medicine," Sirius pointed out, sounding bitter.

"I thought peace had been made," Lupin reminded him.

"I was just pointing out the irony," the animagi defended himself.

"The spell is designed to permanently injure whoever is attacked?" Tonks tried.

"No, not at all," Thalia answered. "It's a defensive spell. It… it puts someone's life on pause. That person's state cannot worsen or improve for a certain time."

"How much time?" Remus asked.

"Until the person in question can be brought to safety. In my case, the second I stepped into this hospital," Snape explained this time.

"Wow. It's a great spell. So… protective," Remus remarked.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Snape replied.

"It was. We definitely need to teach that one to every member of the Order."

"Yeah, well…" Snape started, uneasy.

"It is issued from a… darker branch of magic?" Mr. Weasley supposed.

"No, it's… it is issued from that branch as you say, but because of its effects it's considered as neutral magic, or something like that. The problem is… I haven't been able to test it that much, and it might have side-effects," Snape explained.

"Side-effects…" Remus urged him to continue for everyone's benefit.

Snape sighed, seeming resigned to explain the truth to the other members of the Order. "We know for sure there are side-effects. We just can't seem to pin them down, identify them acurately. But it is absolutely certain something nasty is bound to show up. _Resisterat purgare_ stops time inside someone's body while time still runs all around it. Not the safest of spells..."

"Couldn't identify the side-effects? How come? Couldn't you simply observe the patients?"

"We did. And found out they vary from one individual to another. One… one has died (on that Thalia raised her eyes to the ceiling, clasping her hands together) but it was because the Dark Lord had… abused of it. I for one seem to be reacting properly to it, but the side-effects might come rushing into my life in ten or twenty years – when we meddle with time, time always manages to meddle with us."

"So everything is good then?" Sirius summed up. "One of your faithfull friends has used this spell on you hoping you'd suffer from terrible side-effects and has failed?"

"No," Snape replied, finding Sirius' theory amusing, "one of my faithfull friends tried saving me from the Death he thought I was promised to."

Thalia ignored everyone's reaction. "Who?"

"You actually believe Bella would try saving my life?"

"Oh my God, Sev, he came to talk to you."

"Yes."

"They let him in!?"

"Who are we referring to?" Tonks asked, inserting herself in their _tête-à-tête_ conversation.

"Lucius Malfoy," they replied in unisson. Remus, who had been standing all the while, let himself fall heavily on the ground. "Okay," he let out, "explain, everything. Now."

"Bellatrix is a high-ranked Death Eater. Though we – _they_," Snape corrected himself, "do not follow an actual hierarchical system, some are closer to the Dark Lord than others. I was one of these, and so as Bellatrix. The other Death Eaters usually receive orders from such people, and so Bella used that power to convince the few who were supposed to invade Hogwarts for a night that there was a second aspect to the plan. Cornering me, and forcing me to admit my true allegiances. If such actions did not succeed, Malfoy was to take my place."

"So, he did so thinking those were well, You-Know-Who's orders?" the werewolf asked.

"Exactly. And he thought that since the Dark Lord was doubting me, I would probably end up dead at the end of the operation, whatever path was taken. So after Bella… had her fun, he subtely hexed me with this spell. And… voila. The Dark Lord learned the truth about her undercover operations. Apparently she was hoping to return to his side with some proof of my treason to compensate for her unacceptable behavior. As to this day, Bellatrix is a paria within Death Eater circles, and my position is now stronger than ever."

"Great," Thalia whispered.

"That's a change of perspective," Arthur added. "At least it's a good one."

Harry was smart enough to understand it was time to leave the angle, hidden behind the room door, in which he had been hidding.

"Well, Severus," Remus said, "I'm glad to see this turned out so well." He got up and put on his coat, which he had held in his hands during the entire conversation. He placed his hands on the bed's frame. "Will we still be seeing you for the Christmas vacations?" he asked, facing Thalia and Snape alternately. Snape stared at Thalia. Suddenly, they spoke as if they had been alone in the room. The man started. "I never went before, so I don't really mind."

"I had fun."

"You'd still have fun with me to take care of?"

"Yeah, I guess. Can you behave?" she asked with a smile.

"For you, I guess I can."

Thalia turned towards Remus, who was trying to hide a chuckle, in vain. "With pleasure."

"So, when did the nurse said his leave was?" Tonks asked as Remus started taking his coat off. Thalia stopped the man half-way through his manoeuvre. "Erm, we won't be joining you tonight. We'll probably drop by tomorrow, or the day after…"

There was a forced silence in the room, which was finally ended by Mr. Weasley's intervention. "Alright, we're all adults here. You diserve your time together."

Thalia laughed. "Thanks for the support. It's also because I have food enough stacked up at my place to feed the entire Order for a week. I'll have to take care of that."

Remus and Sirius burst into laughter. "We went to high school with you two. We're not believing that," Sirius said as Remus nodded frantically. Thalia smiled, apparently amused, though she sighed in desperation. "Just, leave," she told everyone. They all bade them goodbye and walked out of the room, Sirius nevertheless lingering a few seconds more. "Have fun _eating_," he told Thalia as she pushed him out the room with a look she apparently wanted to be angry, but which she destroyed herself with her half-hidden grin.

She finally slammed the door shut. "I'm sorry."

Snape pulled the sheet in which he had buried his face. "It's fine, I guess. It's just weird… you know them so much better. It's like they can kid about your part of the couple, but not mine…"

"You see sides in our couple?" Thalia asked, intrigued.

"No, there aren't any, that's the problem," he replied with a laugh.

There was a small silence, and the woman sat on the bed, gently petting her boyfriend's hair. "So Malfoy came?"

"Yeah."

"You trust his story?"

"It's the only one that makes sense."

"Yeah, that's what I though too. And I like the idea of keeping a friend."

"Yeah, well, that only applies to you."

"Why, what happened?"

"I asked him… why he had accepted to take my place. And you can guess the answer. I told him that coming from a friend, a married friend, as it is, it wasn't an appropriate answer."

"So, you won't see him again."

"Oh, I will. He insists that we stay friends… while he secretly hopes he can one day steel you from me."

Thalia only replied after a moment. "We have been living that way since what, fifth grade?

"I guess… Though he's never went that far."

The door suddenly swung open, and the two wizards found themselves observing a suspicious Madam Demetear. "You were only _sitting_ on that bed, right, Missy?"

"Of course I was." The Missy in question got up, and the nurse took out a small, metallic box from one of her pockets. She untwisted the cap, and handed it to her patient. He sat up, and delicately placed the cap on his forehead, face down. After five seconds, it turned white. "Alright, mister Snape, you're clean."

"Thank you, Madam, for the lovely stay."

"Yeah, yeah," she simply replied. "Did they found out what you accidentally swallowed?" she asked, apparently uneasy with the thanks.

"Erm, yes, I believe it was distill of porcupine thorns." Behind the nurse, Thalia chocked in what seemed to be air. "Well, it's four thirty, so you can leave. You can dissaparate from the room without any problem, that way you won't be interfering with any possible urgent arrivals." She then gave a dry, rapid nod in Thalia's direction, and left. Thalia burst into laughter. "How stupid do they think you are?! Drinking distilled porcupine thorns? Even a Hogwarts second grade knows not to do that!" Snape shared her disbelief. "They told them I had confused the mixture in question, which I was using for a potion, with my glass of pumpkin juice."

"Yes, orange and deep maroon being very similar colors."

They ragged on about the subject for a while, almost insulted that the hospital personel find it normal for a Potions Master to do such a ridiculously stuid error, and not to know how to react properly. When there were no more words, and no more giggles, Thalia slipped her body beside Snape's, finding a place between the sheets.

"Madam Demetear is a charming lady," she said, sarcasm dripping out from her mouth and staining the pillow on which her head rested.

"Incredibly."

The woman rolled towards the right, until she was resting over Snape.

"That's probably why you got along so well," she whispered, as she suddenly pinned her mouth against his. As her hand slipped somewhere under his shirt, both the wizards dissapeared with a small "pop".


End file.
